


Tailspin

by goldtoashes, heirsofbrokenlegacies (jarofhearts)



Series: Grow as we go [1]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: (sorry Melkor fans), (yes it's really happening), Abusive Relationships, Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Banter, Blackmail, Blowjobs, Bratting, Consensual Sex, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Dubious Consent, Getting Back Together, Hacking, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Kneeling, M/M, Maedhros and Fingon will always love each other, Mairon Makes Bad Life Choices, Mairon Makes Good Life Choices, Mairon has a crush, Melkor and Feanor are still butting heads over the Silmarils, Modern Middle Earth, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Porn With Plot, Post-Break Up, Rape/Non-con Elements, Smut, Spanking, Violence, alternative universe, and the good stuff is all Maedhros, asshole!Melkor, basically the bad stuff is all Melkor, between Maedhros and Mairon, brat!Mairon, but Fingon will still always come rescue Maedhros, dom!Maedhros, even though they do not have sex in this one, shameless use of Middle-Earth names and words for modern day concepts, we have zero regrets and are not sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:14:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 64,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22512316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldtoashes/pseuds/goldtoashes, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarofhearts/pseuds/heirsofbrokenlegacies
Summary: “Stars, Mairon, are you trying to call the cavalry down here?” he hissed, heart skipping in nervousness as much as delight. Eru, he wished he could really do it, let Mairon be as loud as he wanted, make good on his words and actually make him scream. This way, he could merely hear Mairon muffle some kind of angry protest against his hand. Obviously not in the mood to be reasonable, he tried to slap Maedhros’ hand away as he continued to push himself down on his lap, and under other circumstances, Maedhros would have loved it. As it was, he kept his hand pressed over Mairon’s mouth and hissed into his ear, “I promise I’m going to fuck you into the mattress if you promise me that you’re going to bite your tongue and keep quiet.”---Caught in a cold war for the Silmarils between Melkor and Fëanor, Maedhros finds himself kidnapped and faced with Melkor's young lover. Mairon is supposed to extract some secrets from him - but they both get incredibly distracted by each other (and quickly forget the severity of the situation). Featuring 20 year old hacker Mairon, crime boss Melkor and a thoroughly done with everything Maedhros. Guest appearances: heroic lawyer Fingon and awesome little brother Maglor.
Relationships: Fingon | Findekáno/Maedhros | Maitimo, Maedhros | Maitimo/Sauron | Mairon, Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor/Sauron | Mairon
Series: Grow as we go [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697428
Comments: 86
Kudos: 151





	1. The Prisoner

**Author's Note:**

> So, it went something like this:
> 
> goldtoashes: grr, they’re so hot together. Sure there's no way to ship them consensually?  
> heirsofbrokenlegacy: no chance. not in canon.  
> heirsofbrokenlegacy: maybe in an AU though  
> goldtoashes: I don't like AUs  
> heirsofbrokenlegacy: okay, but hear me out...  
> goldtoashes: ...  
> goldtoashes: goddamnit, bring it on
> 
> Basically we just wanted to find out under what kind of circumstances Maedhros and Mairon could ever have consenting sex. Then this got fully away from us and grew three new heads around every turn. But we don't regret a thing. It's fully finished and we'll post every weekend.
> 
> Disclaimer: We only know as much about hacking and encryption keys as a quick internet research told us.
> 
> We're aware this sounds like a wild ride in the tags, and it _is_. But as much as it's fun and sexy, it's devastating and sad as well as beautifully heart-warming at times.
> 
> We fell thoroughly in love with it, and we hope we can convince you to come along for the ride.
> 
> (We promise it has a good ending.)

“Oh, _fuck this_.”

With a frustrated sigh, Mairon stared at the screen of his notebook, still looking at unreadable gibberish. He had tried everything he could think of - differential and linear analysis, dictionary as well as brute force attacks, but he was still no step closer to breaking that weird encryption scheme that Fëanor Finwion had invented. 

It was as annoying as it was time-consuming. They had managed to retrieve the files that contained the information about the exact programming of the Silmarils, the tiny microbots that might very well turn out to be Fëanor’s most groundbreaking invention so far. Yet without the encryption key to crack the files open, they were unreadable. The solution had to be some kind of password that would act as an input to a key derivation function. Yet even if Fëanor hadn't built in any additional layers, which seemed unlikely, Mairon had still no idea what this password would be in the first place. 

He only wished he had kept his mouth shut for once instead of declaring loudly that he believed it would take him no more than a couple of days to break the code. The couple of days had already turned into three weeks now and he was running out of ideas as to what else to do. That he was bored out of his mind and had rarely left the apartment during that time did not help.

Mairon yawned, feeling exhausted and frustrated at once. It had gone dark on the other side of the large glass panels a while ago. The lights of Beleriand were glittering far below, the city still bustling with activity as always. He would need another little refresher if he wanted to be able to concentrate for another couple of hours, let alone be willing to put up with this nuisance any longer. 

Getting up from the spacious leather couch, Mairon stretched and then headed over to the sideboard where he opened the drawer and reached for the familiar, inconspicuous wooden box without even looking. It did not take long before the white powder in one of the little bags had found its way onto the designer couch table in a routinely arranged line. Inarguably, this was one of the best things about his current whereabouts - there was an abundance of coke in the luxurious apartment, and of the best quality as well, not the cheap stuff that was often sold on the streets, down in the shadier quarter of Angband in the city’s north.

He felt his mood improving the very moment he sniffed the substance, although the effect of the drug could impossibly kick in that fast. Letting himself fall back on the couch, he waited for the familiar feeling of euphoria and agitation to take over.

Mairon didn’t look up when the wing doors to the parlor swung open, the footfalls familiar enough to recognize Melkor either way. And sure enough, the man’s voice came only a moment later.

“Ah, there you are.”

Melkor appeared in front of him and bent down, something gleaming in his eyes as he cupped Mairon’s chin and brushed his thumb along his jaw. The corners of his mouth twitched and he hummed appreciatively.

“You look positively ravishing today.”

Mairon raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. Melkor was apparently in a good mood, which had been a rare occurrence ever since he had been forced into hiding by the arrest warrant that had finally been issued against him. He had been mostly restless and irritated lately, shouting at his thugs for trivialities and paying only fleeting attention to Mairon, except to inquire about his progress with the encryption, which Mairon was not particularly fond of either.

“Do I? I am bored out of mind,” he replied, pouting playfully. Yet he did not bother masking his actual discontent when he asked, “Where have _you_ been all day?”

Melkor clicked his tongue and brushed his thumb over Mairon's pouting lip.

“Getting you a new prospect for progress on your work. Fëanor’s encryption is still alluding you, isn’t it.”

It wasn’t a question, but in contrast to the last time Melkor had asked him about it, today he seemed mostly unbothered.

“It takes time,” Mairon answered evasively. “I need a password to get to the key derivation function, and it's not like I know the guy and would know what kind of passwords he’s into.”

“Well, you’re in luck today.” Melkor tightened his hold on Mairon’s chin and leaned in to press their lips together for a short, firm kiss that ended before there was really a chance to react. “Get up, we’re going on a little trip. Pack whatever you need for a few days. And bring those damn files.”

“Whatever gets me out of here,” Mairon agreed with a grin, already on his feet. He could not help the rush of excitement that overcame him at Melkor’s words - or maybe it was the effects of the coke eventually kicking in. Jauntily, he reached for his lover’s wrist, giving him a curious glance.

“Where are we going?”

The corners of Melkor’s mouth were twitching as he regarded Mairon. His free hand reached for his waist and he pulled him close against his taller frame, dipping his head down to press a kiss to his neck.

“You’ll see. Go on, it’s getting late.”

“Give me five minutes.”

Because they never knew whether they would need to leave this place in a hurry, Mairon had a travel bag with some clothes, a toothbrush and other items already packed in the back of the wardrobe that he merely needed to grab. His notebook, another ration of coke and a couple of personal items quickly found their way into his backpack as well. And so it was indeed only ten minutes later that he found himself on the backseat of the spacious Grond 8 with the tinted windows, his fingers drumming impatiently on his leg. He couldn’t wait to see what Melkor was acting so cryptic about, yet he knew better than to ask.

To his surprise, they were not heading for the motorway, but to the outskirts of the city, into suburban Nevrast that had once been a thriving and family-friendly quarter before more and more houses had been abandoned over the years. They stopped in front of a nondescript, middle-sized house with a garage, a porch and a short driveway.

Mairon raised his eyebrows and gave Melkor a teasing look. “What’s this about? Are you introducing me to your parents or planning to settle for domestic life after all?”

Melkor averted his gaze from the house he had studied and raised his eyebrows at Mairon. “I think I would utterly disappoint both of us if those were my intentions.” His gaze flickered back to the driver, who had been mumbling into the tiny speaker of his radio hidden on the inner edge of his collar and was now looking back at them.

“We’re clear,” he said and Melkor gave a brief nod and left the car, folding up the collar of his slim-fitted coat for protection against the elements. Mairon grabbed his backpack and his bag and followed right after him. A cold, uncomfortable wind was blowing that made him shiver violently despite his leather jacket, and they both walked quickly towards the house without speaking. When they reached the door, it was immediately opened and they were let into a narrow hallway. Mairon could see three doors and stairs going up and down. There was furniture, but no personalized items which made him assume that this was another one of Melkor’s extensive network of safe places and houses. He put his travel bag down on the floor and looked at Melkor questioningly.

With a flick of his hand, the older man directed Mairon to follow him as he descended the stairs into the basement, the wooden steps creaking under his feet. The light down there was sparse with only a single, naked light illuminating the small corridor. Mairon frowned a little, yet followed without question.

The second of the two doors down there lead into a room that seemed empty at first glance, nothing but another door and a naked table with two chairs. But once Mairon had stepped inside fully after Melkor, he saw the narrow bed in the corner and the figure sprawled across it, slack in unconsciousness. Hands angled before him bound with cable tie, a strip of fabric winding over eyes and tousled auburn hair.

“Who the fuck -” Mairon walked closer, inspecting the figure on the bed. Because of the blindfold it took him a moment longer until realization dawned on him. “Is this…?”

“Fëanor’s eldest,” Melkor confirmed his suspicion, something fierce gleaming in his eyes as he studied the prone figure on the bed that was still clad in pressed dark grey slacks and the fitting dress jacket and white shirt he must have worn to work. “Who will hopefully be a tremendous help with your undertaking.”

“Wait, what?” Mairon blinked. “Help me with my… you think _Maedhros_ can help me crack the cipher? After… after you kidnapped him and threw him tied up into a basement?” He could not help but laugh at the obvious absurdity, and found that he was too agitated to stop laughing, an almost hysterical sound coming over his lips. “What the _fuck,_ Melkor? How is that supposed to work?”

Before he knew what was happening, his lover’s hand had shot out and grabbed the front of his jacket, pulling him close so that he had to tip his head back to be able to look into the dark eyes boring into him.

“Careful, Mairon,” Melkor growled in a low voice, his eyes flashing dangerously. “You have been trying my patience with your grand proclamations about cracking those files weeks ago.” The hold on Mairon’s jacket loosened, and Melkor smoothed down his collar, casting a brief glance at their captive who had not stirred. “With him here, his father might be… _amenable_ to helping us out with the encryption. But since Fëanor is a hard-headed and cold-hearted bastard… You’re clever and very convincing. I’m sure you and Maedhros here could come to an understanding.”

A quiet, warning voice in the back of Mairon's head told him that he shouldn't get into this argument, not when Melkor was like _this_. But the fact that he was still high fuelled his anger instead and he glared at him, not willing to back down on this.

“Does the guy even know anything about encryption? Because if he does not, I doubt he'll be of any help. And even if he does, did it ever occur to you that you could have asked whether I wanted to get involved in a _fucking high profile kidnapping case_?!?” He was only vaguely aware that he was yelling now. “I’m not one of your dumb thugs you can order around and -”

But Mairon was cut off when Melkor grabbed him by the scuff and hauled him out of the room, easily employing greater strength. Before he had entirely found his feet again, Melkor had pushed him through the adjourning door that led into what turned out to be not much more than a supply closet, cans, tools, and boxes sharing the space. The light flared on and the door fell shut behind them, and in the small space Melkor towered over him.

“I know that you’re high but _pull yourself together_ ,” he hissed, eyes narrowed. “You’re acting like a fucking child. _You_ were the one who said that you most likely need a password to get anywhere with the decoding. You’d think even you could see that _his oldest son_ would know about the way Fëanor’s mind works. Obviously you still haven’t realized the significance of the Silmarils. Getting to them is the most important thing you have ever done in your life, _do you understand me_?”

“Most important to you, maybe.” 

The condescension and rage in Melkor's voice did little to calm Mairon's temper. Only that now, it was accompanied by a sudden rush of anxiety, his heartbeat way too fast for him to think straight. His mouth was uncomfortably dry and for a moment, a feeling of nausea overcame him und he had to close his eyes. _Focus, damn it._

Mairon swallowed, then looked back up at Melkor and shook his head violently. 

“No. I don't want to be involved in this. I’m out.” His voice was not half as steady as he would have liked it to be and the fact that Melkor still blocked the door frame and made no intentions of moving did not help either. “Melkor, I mean it.”

His lover only looked at him for a long moment though, his eyes appraising but unmoving. Finally he clicked his tongue, a soft, impatient sound, but when he spoke, his voice was fairly even, the grip on Mairon’s shoulders light as his hands came up to rest on them.

“Calm down, Mairon, take a deep breath. Your high is starting to wear off, that’s why you’re so agitated.” For a moment, his fingers massaged Mairon’s shoulders and then he drew him close against his chest, an arm firmly wrapped around his shoulders and holding him in place. “Now listen to me,” he said quietly, close to his ear.

This was a _bad_ idea, Mairon knew it. His body felt tense as a bowstring, objecting to the touch. Damn, he should not be listening, he should be leaving, but there was no way he would get past Melkor if he did not let him.

“You obviously know how important this is to me.” Familiar fingers carded through the short hair in the nape of his neck. “I have always given you a lot. Resources, luxuries, recognition for your abilities, and you have never wanted for your coke. You will do this for me now. I need those files cracked. I need the Silmarils. Those microbots are going to change _everything_.”

“No, you don’t understand…” Mairon tried to withdraw, yet gave up quickly when Melkor just held him in place without any effort. “The police doesn’t know I’m associated with you yet. But… when _he_ sees me, once you let him go they’ll have another face to look for. Fuck, I’m only twenty, I don’t want to spend the rest of my days in hiding -”

“You won’t.” The words came with such self-evidence that they momentarily tripped Mairon up. “I’ve been making preparations. Once we have the Silmarils, we can get out of this damn city.” He could not see Melkor’s face, but in the hard tone his voice had taken Mairon could read his own frustrations about his situation, not being able to move freely through Beleriand any longer, even though so far, his contacts within the police had kept the most unpleasant prosecutors off his back. “There’s a city in the far south-east that’s ripe for the picking.”

Finally, the hold around Mairon’s shoulders loosened and Melkor drew back enough to be able to reach up and tip Mairon’s head up with a finger under his chin to look at him again. “But don’t forget, no matter what happens here with the young Fëanorian… You have already done other things. Initiating the smear campaign among the Laiquendi. Managing the heist on Tol Sirion so successfully… well, apart from Felagund’s unfortunate demise. They still don’t know just whose error of judgement was responsible for that, do they.”

Marion just looked at Melkor, for a moment unable or not willing to believe what he heard, his words like an icy gush over his head. “Wait, but you said… I wouldn’t… are you _blackmailing_ me?”

His lover’s dark eyes were cool as they regarded him, but the thumb gentle that ran along his jaw. “I believe that is entirely unnecessary. You’re a clever boy, Mairon, always have been. Isn’t that so?”

Mairon didn’t answer. He merely shot Melkor a dark, angry glare, his fingernails digging painfully into his palms. But his lover brushed his hand over Mairon’s cheek, studying him, and finally, the corners of his mouth turned in a soft little smile.

“You have such fire in you. I always admired it, unlike those people around you who just wanted to quench it.” The smile on his face widened just a little. “It suits you so well. And makes you incredibly sexy.”

Mairon only gave a huff in reply. Admittedly, it were things like this that had attracted him to Melkor when he had first run into him at the age of seventeen in a small downtown bar he had only gotten into with an artfully faked ID. Even though twice as old as him, the suave and eloquent gentleman in the elegant, custom-tailored suit had caught Mairon’s attention by flattering him and seeming to genuinely care for his opinions. Later that night, Melkor had shamelessly flirted with him and had eventually seduced him with ease. Of course Mairon had known of the shady reputation that had preceded Melkor even back then. But it had only intrigued him more.

What a naive little idiot he had been. 

Right now, however, Mairon was not willing to simply let himself be talked out of his anger and thus caught Melkor's hand at his wrist, stopping him from caressing his face. “Guess what: I am not in the mood for this right now.”

“Oh Mairon.” Melkor let out a soft laugh, escaping his hold easily by twisting his wrist over Mairon’s thumb so that he had to let go. Unimpressed by his defiant words, Melkor let his hand trail down Mairon’s neck, lingering briefly on its most sensitive point. “Every time you say that, you still end up moaning with how much you do want it after all later. More often than not loud enough for the whole house to hear.”

“I’m fucking serious,” Mairon growled, trying to evade Melkor and squeeze past him to get to the door. But instead, an arm across his chest pushed him back with enough force that he stumbled backwards into a few stacked boxes, and Melkor followed immediately, crowding him against them.

“I know you are,” Melkor said and prevented him from replying at all with a deep, hard kiss. Struggling a little against the rough grip at first, Mairon felt himself giving into the kiss eventually. The effect of the cocaine was indeed slowly beginning to wear off, the familiar exhaustion following a high creeping in. While the feeling of discontent lingered, he no longer felt in the mood to fight his lover.

Doubtlessly sensing his compliance, Melkor’s hand came up to cradle his cheek for a prolonged moment, his thigh nudging between Mairon’s legs. And then he reached down and Mairon felt the front of his jeans loosening, a hand finding its way inside.

Before everything had gone south because of the warrant, Melkor had often enjoyed taking his time with him in bed, Mairon remembered absent-mindedly. But since he’d had to go into hiding, this had become their usual mode, a quick, almost mechanical way to relieve the tension they were under. The naked light of the bulb bit into Mairon’s eyes, and he noted how unflattering it was to Melkor’s skin, as it brought out the lines on his face that had become deeper within the past months, making him look older than he had before. 

“You know, we could also go upstairs,” Mairon suggested, trying to shift as the boxes pressed uncomfortably into his back, which only resulted in something crashing to the floor. “If your prisoner next door wakes up…”

“Then what?”

Mairon wasn’t surprised that Melkor was unphased by the proposal. He had never minded him being loud, no matter how many of his thugs or guests were close by - had encouraged it, even, to a point where Mairon had been certain that he got off on it.

Melkor drew away and pulled Mairon’s backpack close, quickly rifling through it. Instead of the small tube of lube though that Mairon always, _always_ carried around with him, for moments just like this, he procured the small, transparent plastic bag with the white powder and unravelled it.

“Here. Let’s make you feel better, hm?”

He slid his finger inside and brought the white-powdered tip to Mairon’s lips. Mairon rolled his eyes, but immediately opened his mouth to let Melkor slide the digit inside. His gums went numb immediately where the fingertip with the cocaine touched them and he closed his eyes, waiting greedily for the familiar effect of the drug to kick in again, Melkor’s low words of praise washing over him.

A hand brushed over his throat, fingers raking through his hair, and finally gripped his hip to turn him around where he could brace himself on the boxes. Melkor’s hand pushed the jeans he was wearing out of the way, the sounds of shuffling clothes reached his ears, the snap of the lube’s cap.

For a moment, Mairon’s thoughts strayed to the unconscious prisoner just on the opposite side of the wall, even as he concentrated on relaxing his muscles, yielding to the blunt, lubed cock head nudging against his entrance. What he knew of Maedhros came mostly from the cover of celebrity magazines who loved the tall, handsome redhead. He was some sort of manager in his father’s company, and there had been some sort of scandal a couple of years ago when it came out that he was dating his cousin, a son of one of Fëanor’s detested half-brothers. The rational part of Mairon hoped that he was still out, because negotiations would surely not become easier if he indeed overheard them next door.

Yet as a wave of sudden euphoria hit him when the drug reached his bloodstream, he discarded the fleeting concern altogether. A soft gasp escaped him when Melkor shifted a little behind him, his agitated, overly sensitive nerves reacting to the stimulation after all. 

_Who cares. Let him hear whatever. It doesn’t matter. None of this matters._

***

Anger, more than anything. A low, simmering anger that seethed beneath the surface, neither bubbling up nor dying down. At the men with their chloroform cloth that had grabbed him when he had only wanted to go home after a long, tiring day, at himself for having been too lost in thought to notice them, at the company’s car park security that was obviously _not good enough_ , at Melkor who seemed to be the damn source of _every single fucked up thing_ that had kept happening in the past few months.

He listened to the muffled sounds of sex that reached his ears, but now that there were no eyes on him that expected him to still be unconscious, his jaw was clenched and his nails dug into his palms, the sting of it grounding in all his anger.

What a terrible, terrible _joke_.

When Maedhros had first stirred from the fogs of his chemically induced oblivion, it had only taken the sting of the cable wire into his wrists and the painful tingling in his hands to realize what had happened. To reach up and rip the blindfold off to see what his surroundings were had been a nearly unconquerable urge, but at the last moment, Maedhros had held himself back. Instead he had tried to breathe through his painfully pounding heart and to concentrate on what his other senses were telling him: the barely yielding mattress beneath him, the stale air and faintly musty scent, the occasional, muffled footsteps from somewhere above him. Carefully, he had moved his hands as much as the plastic wire allowed, working at least a minimum of circulation back into them.

His restraint had paid off when he could pretend to still be very much out when a door had opened to admit who he had been proven right to be responsible for his current situation.

_‘What the fuck, Melkor?’_

The sounds of sex died down eventually, and Maedhros forced himself to relax once more, unclenching his hands and his jaw, dispelling as much tension from his body as he could. But even after he heard the muffled voices once more, and eventually a door opening and closing, it was the creak of the stairs that reached him next instead of anyone coming inside again.

And then… nothing.

It might have been another hour before Maedhros was finally fed up with doing nothing at all, before he sat up on the bed and reached for the cloth wrapped around his head with both his bound hands to pull it off. Wisely, he kept his eyes closed for a little longer instead of straight up blinking into the source of light that, as it turned out when he finally did squint at his surroundings, was coming from a single lamp on the ceiling.

Briefly, he tried to get rid off the cable tie around his wrists as well, but quickly had to abandon that as a rather hopeless task. Instead, Maedhros glanced around, taking in the sparse furnishing of what had to be a cellar room, windowless as it was. A table with two chairs filled the middle of the room, the door to the right had to be the one leading upstairs judging from the direction of the noises that had reached his ears when Melkor and his… well, lover… had come and gone, and there was another at the opposite side that would, surely, either be locked or lead nowhere.

It was a small bathroom containing basin, toilet and shower, Maedhros found when he got to his feet to investigate, to both his disappointment and relief. Though the latter quickly took over as the hours wore on, providing him with a source of water to wet his parched throat.

Night must have fallen a while ago. While Maedhros stalked the perimeter of his cell, taking in every detail about it, his stomach started rumbling. Through his anger it was easy to ignore, and the feeling of hunger stopped again eventually, leaving him with nothing but his thoughts.

His hands were slowly going numb, the sting of the plastic tie around his wrists starting to flare up into a sharp pain whenever he moved his wrists even a little. He didn’t waste a single thought on sleep, pacing the small room for hours before ending up sitting on the bed, leaned against the wall and staring straight ahead as still as a statue.

No one would even realize that anything was out of the ordinary until he would fail to show up for his coffee date slash Saturday brunch with Maglor in the morning. Maedhros imagined it for a while: His brother’s mild annoyance when he wouldn’t show up on time or answer his phone, when he wouldn’t show up _at all_ . The shift to worry when he would fail to reach him, when he would probably start calling their brothers one at a time, the friends they shared, mother and father, while attempting and failing to find him at his apartment. He imagined the irony of it being his father who might just be the first to jump to the right conclusion - suspicious, _paranoid_ as he had become ever since finding out about Melkor’s network of spies that had reached into his very company.

The light on the ceiling burned on, unchanging, while at some point outside, the sun had to rise.

It felt like forever until he eventually heard steps slowly coming down the stairs and towards his makeshift cell, until the lock turned and finally, the door opened. A young blond man in a dark hoodie and jeans was standing in the doorframe, appraising him curiously. 

“Hello, Maedhros. Care if I come in?”

 _Mairon_. Maedhros recognized his voice from the fight with Melkor right here in this room the day before, and it took some effort to hide his surprise. He hadn’t expected someone so young.

Maedhros gave himself the time to take him in slowly, from head to toe, in no hurry at all to give him a reply. But eventually he raised his eyes to Mairon’s again and said, “Welcome to my humble abode.”

Mairon smirked and entered, closing and locking the door behind him. Turning around a chair, he sat down on it backwards, his arms casually resting on the back rest. He had a gorgeous face, but its most interesting feature were the deep green eyes that glittered with just the hint of a taunt. 

“How are you holding up?” he asked interestedly.

Holding back a snort, Maedhros raised his bound hands that had started turning from a flush red into one tinged with blue and were screaming at him in pain at the movement.

“Fabulously, as you can see.”

“Good, seems you haven’t lost your humor so far,” Mairon commented mildly. “Do you want me to help you get out of these?” He hesitated for a moment until a mischievous smile found his face. “Although, you know, you actually _do_ look kind of hot being tied up and all.”

The words brought Maedhros’ anger straight back, after it had cooled down a little during the long hours of the night, a sneer forming immediately on his face. “That’s your play? Don’t make me laugh, boy.”

“Mmmhh.” Mairon tilted his head, looking unruffled, and his eyes flicked back to Maedhros’ bound hands. “Do you want to get out of these or not? I can be nice, you know, if you are.”

“Changed your mind then, have you.” Again Maedhros forced himself to concentrate on releasing some of the tension tightening his shoulders, on keeping his voice even and his hands still. “About being involved in a high profile kidnapping case. Does that mean you _are_ just one of his thugs he can order around after all…?”

Mairon huffed a little, yet Maedhros could see the brief, angry flash in the green eyes. “Seems like somebody just pretended to be asleep last night. Not overly polite of you, don’t you think?” But then he shrugged, pretending to be unconcerned. “Just as well. Spares me the time to explain at length what it is we want from you, then.”

“Let me spare you some more.” Maedhros leaned forward a little, ignoring the flare of pain in his hands to look deeper into Mairon’s eyes. “I don’t know a thing about the Silmarils encryption.”

Mairon clicked his tongue, pretending to be disappointed. “Too bad for us then. And for you, of course. Because I am afraid that means you won’t be leaving anytime soon.”

 _No surprise_ , Maedhros thought, for the first time since waking up more weary than angry. He leaned back against the cold wall again and gave a small shrug of his shoulders. “I was overdue a holiday anyway.”

What a sad truth at that, he could not help adding in his mind.

Mairon simply laughed and got up from his chair, slowly walking towards him, eyes glittering with amusement. 

“And you’ll be spending that holiday with me. How nice is that?”

Dropping himself unceremoniously onto the bed next to him, he reached out for Maedhros’ bound hands, taking him by surprise when he said, “Allow me?”

The pain he was in because of the restriction on his circulation was enough to keep Maedhros from hesitating or questioning Mairon’s offer. He simply raised his bound hands a little but kept his gaze on the young man next to him, ready to move if he had to. But Mairon merely smirked at him, gently took his hands, and procured a short set of pliers from the pockets of his hoodie. Just as he set the pliers to the cable tie, he looked up at Maedhros.

“Just so we’re clear: There are a couple of people outside within earshot, and we have taken certain precautions. So I hope I can trust you to not do something rash and irrational? Because you would not achieve anything and regret it pretty soon after.”

When Maedhros simply nodded, Mairon cut the cable without further ado, watching him smugly. “There, that should be better. Oh, and may I suggest that you massage your wrists or move them a little, to get the circulation going. They look a little blue already.”

“You’re a real smartass, aren't you,” Maedhros had barely enough time to say before the blood rushed back into his hands and the fresh pain that came with it let his words end in a soft hiss as he drew in a breath. Involuntarily, his eyes closed as he had to direct his focus inward, jaw clenching hard. For the moment, even Mairon's presence next to him wasn't enough to distract from it.

Mercifully, the boy remained silent, and so Maedhros was finally able to breathe freely and open his eyes again once the pain in his hands slowly started to recede, leaving behind a faint tingle and angry red lines around his wrists. He turned his head to look at Mairon, still slowly massaging his own fingers.

“How old are you?”

Mairon smiled at him sweetly. “How old would you like me to be?”

Maedhros looked back at him unimpressed, barely refraining from rolling his eyes. “I obviously need to lower my estimate.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

Up close, Mairon's face was easier to see in detail, accentuating his youth as much as the striking green of his eyes. In his mind, Maedhros went through a small variation of ages, but instead of indulging him, he said, “I bet there's quite the story in how you ended up here.”

Mairon merely shrugged. “Seems we have that in common, don’t we?”

A harsh, humorless laugh escaped Maedhros and he averted his gaze again, letting his head drop back against the wall. “My story about how I ended up here is as straightforward as they come. An empty garage, a chloroform cloth and an abduction in what I think was a van. Classic, really.”

“And how do you think that story will end?” Mairon asked curiously, pulling up his knees on the bed. “Do you think your father will hand over the encryption key once he learns we have you? Or do you hope for a miraculous rescue attempt from the police? Your family?”

He didn’t. Maedhros knew well enough how his father felt about the Silmarils, and that there was nothing - _nothing_ \- that would make him give up the encryption key, especially not to Melkor. And the thought of what harm could actually be done if those microbots fell into the wrong hands was enough for Maedhros to hope that Fëanor held out no matter what happened.

_‘You don’t understand how important they are, they’ll be able to cure cancer!’_

_‘Or be turned into a biological weapon with the wrong intentions!’_

Maedhros forcefully pushed the memory away and wondered, instead, at the irony of sitting right next to and talking to the (ridiculously) young lover of the man who’d had him kidnapped.

“I think you’re more equipped to predict how the story will end.”

“Me? Oh no, this is all in your hands, dear. Well, yours and your family’s to be precise,” Mairon said, resting his chin upon his knees. “Think they have realized that you’re missing yet?” 

Maedhros turned his gaze back to Mairon and just regarded him closely for a long moment instead of indulging him with an answer. Truly remarkable eyes, he thought again, in a classically very beautiful face. It seemed no wonder at all that Melkor had picked him up - but why Mairon had gone along with it was a mystery to Maedhros.

“Yes,” he finally said without breaking his gaze with Mairon, curious if he might be able to make him squirm. “They will have noticed by now.”

There was some odd flicker in Mairon's gaze, yet he did not avert his eyes. “What about your boyfriend? The dark-haired, one of your Fin-something cousins?” He frowned a little. “Oh no, but the two of you broke up, right?”

Immediately, Maedhros felt himself stiffen, and he kept himself carefully still, unwilling to back down from their locked gaze, _especially_ right now. “Do you really think that’s a wise line of questioning to go down?”

“You tell me.” Mairon shrugged, looking smug. “I mean, I am happy to talk to you about encryption schemes if you preferred that.” He gave Maedhros a broad grin. “Otherwise, I am as fond of celebrity gossip as anyone and of course dying to find out the answer to ‘The end of the dream couple - Did everyone’s gay sweethearts really break up?’ The _Anor Herald_ wrote quite a sappy story about the two of you, I think…”

“Did they.”

Maedhros was almost proud of himself for how even his voice sounded, just enough to not give anything away. The fact that he knew which particular piece Mairon spoke of did help a little - courtesy to Tyelko, who had at one point slapped the magazine down on Maedhros’ coffee table and proceeded, together with Curvo, to rage about the way the reporter had made out their father as the culprit for the possible separation that the press didn’t even know for sure had happened.

That a lot of their speculations had been true was neither here nor there.

“Hmmm. Seems you’re not eager to talk about that either. I suppose it must be true then.” Mairon clicked his tongue disappointedly. “What a bummer. You two were a pretty couple, actually. You know how some celebrities don't look at all like in the glamorous magazine shots?” He tilted his head to the side, giving Maedhros an appreciative look. “You look even hotter in real life. Must be the five o’clock shadow. Or your angry looks. Angry suits you, in fact.”

“Do you have no brain to mouth filter at all?” Maedhros stared at the young man, amazed enough that it even diffused his anger somewhat. It wasn’t like he had no experience with this sort of thing. The twins more often than not talked seemingly without even drawing breath - maybe it was just that age, Maedhros mused for a moment, but Tyelko was still like that too sometimes.

But from his brothers he was used to this. Not so much from his kidnapper’s lover.

Wearily, Maedhros reached up with one hand and rubbed his eyes, hearing how Mairon laughed. “Sincerest apologies. I didn’t know you’d be too sensitive to take a compliment. Especially since I am sure you get them all the time.”

“I do have to say,” Maedhros sighed and finally glanced at Mairon again, “that you’re doing all you can to make this whole kidnapping experience into one that certainly evades the clichée after the most terribly chlichéed start of it.”

“Oh well, I wouldn’t want to be boring and predictable for you, would I,” Mairon replied smoothly, obviously enjoying himself.

Enough of this.

“So.” Maedhros turned brightly curious eyes back on Mairon, drawing up his eyebrows. “ _You._ Let me see. Part time hacker, full time boy toy? Or is it the other way around? I have to say, I was surprised last night, you sounded genuinely _angry_ about being involved with dear old Melkor’s kidnapping and blackmailing schemes. Or was that some sort of token resistance? Considering the sounds that came from next door right after,” he smiled, never taking his eyes off the young man.

Mairon glared at him briefly, telling Maedhros that he had certainly hit a weak spot there, although he managed to keep his poise somehow. “Obviously we may disagree sometimes. That surprises you?”

“Oh, not at all. From what I’ve heard, Melkor must be the most disagreeable bastard this side of the sea.” Maedhros considered his words and shrugged. “Disagreements don’t please him, do they.” It wasn’t a question. “So he got his way, and here you are, hm? That will leave quite a mark on your resumé.”

“Maybe.” Mairon sounded distinctly irritated now. “Provided you actually get to tell someone about me at some point, of course.”

Ah, so there was a way to ruffle Mairon’s feathers after all. And a rather obvious one at that. The discovery was enough to quench the brief spike of anxiety as the question he had already pondered the night before returned: What Melkor planned to do with him once he realized that Fëanor would not give in to his demands no matter what.

Maedhros hummed, studying every twitch of the young man’s expression. “So it won’t just be involvement with kidnapping but murder after all. That’s so much better, of course.”

Mairon snorted. “Are you trying to appeal to my moral conscience now? So cute, Maedhros.”

“I think not.” Even if he had wanted to, Maedhros couldn’t give his voice a teasing or amused edge at all. “You’re already neck deep in trouble, I’m sure I don’t need to point that out. And even if you’re hit by a sudden bout of conscience now, there's nothing you can do anymore to make that better.”

Mairon raised his eyebrows at him. “Whatever. Your point being?”

Maedhros shrugged slowly. “I suppose if you don’t want me to kick the bucket all that quickly, some breakfast would be helpful.”

Mairon laughed a little at that, relaxing visibly. “You certainly don’t look like you’ll starve right away. But you’re in luck today.” He reached into his pocket again and took out a chocolate bar, throwing it over to Maedhros. “Be a good boy and I might even bring you a sandwich later.”

Unimpressed, Maedhros looked down at the chocolate bar in his hand, but of course his empty stomach immediately acted up with a small pang. This time, he did not hold himself back from rolling his eyes.

“Get out, kid.”

“Your wish is my command,” Mairon smirked, but actually got up from the bed. “Enjoy breakfast and I shall see you later today.”

That probably meant that Mairon wasn’t going to hurry about some proper food. Maedhros watched as he adjusted his hoodie on his way to the door and slipped out, and then listened to his muffled steps creaking outside as he walked up the stairs.

With a sigh, Maedhros unwrapped the chocolate bar and ate it in three large bites, the sugar immediately sating the worst of his hunger, at least for the moment. It wouldn’t last long, Maedhros knew, but now that he was alone and everything was silent around him again, his exhaustion returned just as fast.

It did help, Maedhros mused, that it seemed like Melkor wasn’t in the building anymore. He wished he could change out of his damn dress pants and shirt, into _anything_ fresh and more comfortable. But since that was not an option, he finally pulled the blanket over him, closed his eyes, and was out before he had the chance to wonder what was going to happen when he woke up again.


	2. Warm-up Exercises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mairon thinks he has found the perfect way to 'interrogate' Maedhros.

The news of Maedhros’ abduction hit in the afternoon, which was earlier than Mairon had expected. The press spoke of an anonymous letter with demands that were not released to the public, and Mairon could only conclude that Melkor must have sent it first thing in the morning. Given his impatience with everything that had to do with the Silmarils, it was not overly surprising, yet Mairon had hoped he might have acted more reasonably than this. Now there would be a full-scale police operation all over the city, searching intensively for Fëanor’s disappeared firstborn. Maedhros’ handsome face was shown on the screen in the living room several times, with the news anchor appealing to the population for any clues regarding his whereabouts since last night.

_ Brilliant.  _ And there was nothing to do except sit this out and wait. 

Melkor had been gone since last night and Mairon had no idea when he planned to return. Cursing him inwardly, he imagined a dozen scenarios, each more disastrous than the next - Melkor having been caught in the meantime, being questioned by the police right now, someone having seen something last night when they had dragged Maedhros inside, reporting it to the police right now. Repeatedly, Mairon’s eyes went out of the window to the street in front of the small suburban house, expecting police cars to show up there any second, yet it remained blissfully empty except for some dry leaves that the autumn storm blew across the pavement.

The comedown from the cocaine didn’t help at all, only made him feel more anxious and jittery. Of course he couldn’t let it show, not while four of Melkor’s men were still around, playing cards in the kitchen and acting generally more relaxed than Mairon felt right now. Melkor’s men usually showed him respect as they knew how close he was to their boss, and with regard to the intel they knew he could provide. Yet in the business they were in, respect was something easily lost, and Mairon knew that if he gave the impression of not being in control of himself here, they would not hesitate to report this back to Melkor. And he certainly didn’t want to deal with that, not after his pathetic attempt at making a stance against him last night. 

He tried putting his mind on the Silmaril encryption, but found himself easily distracted by the news in the background and his own thoughts that strayed back to the prisoner in their basement. There had been something… tantalizing about it, the intensity of the gaze of his silver-grey eyes, how unphased he had been by Mairon’s attempts to stir him up. He wanted to go back, see if he could eventually find a way to get to him. Not particularly because of the encryption, but simply for the fun of it. 

But… this was a dangerous game to play. Melkor expected him to see Maedhros and inquire about the encryption, not toy with him. On the other hand, Melkor had not exactly specified what he could and what he could not do. And in any case, Melkor had blatantly disregarded and ignored all of his concerns last night and had undermined his position in negotiating anything with Maedhros when he had insisted on fucking him within earshot. Mairon gritted his teeth when he thought of how quickly Melkor had left afterwards, of that self-satisfied smile on his face. How convinced he had been that a few minutes of frantically thrusting into him in a basement closet and some milligrams of coke were absolutely sufficient to nip Mairon’s resistance in the bud. And none of Mairon's actions so far had disproved that belief, and maybe that was what Mairon was most furious about.

When the tension became too much to bear, he excused himself to Melkor’s men and drove into town to pick up a few particular items. It did not do much to distract him either. Every single gaze from one of his fellow customers nearly freaked him out, and he could not shed the imagination that they were watching him suspiciously, most of all the cashier who checked out the things that he bought. That Maedhros’ face was still broadcasted everywhere on the screens within the store during the 6 o’clock news was not helping either. 

_ Fucking coke. _ He should really do less of it, the stuff was making him paranoid as hell. And yet, by the time he returned, he felt so shaken and jittery that the first thing he did after dropping his bag was to draw a line, and shortly after, another.

_ Fuck Melkor. And fuck his stupid ideas. _

Mairon briefly considered calling him and yelling at him on the phone, but quickly discarded the idea. Even high, he still realized that there was no point in this, that it would only result in Melkor becoming more aggravated. No, he wouldn’t yell at him like a frustrated child.

A slow smile spread on Mairon’s face when the euphoria of the drug kicked in.

_ Fuck you, Melkor. You wanted me to go see Maedhros? Well, guess what, I’m  _ **_going_ ** _ to see Maedhros. Let’s see if you’re happy with whatever the outcome is. _

It was only a couple of minutes and a third line later when he walked down the stairs to the basement, his heart beating frantically in excitement as he opened the door to the makeshift cell. 

The sight that greeted him was considerably different than it had been this morning. The bed was dishevelled and empty, the door to the small bathroom open, and Maedhros instantly appeared in its frame, having to duck his head a little. The two times Mairon had seen him on the bed, he hadn’t quite realized just how tall he was. A small towel was slung around his neck, barely covering his otherwise bare upper body, and the longer strands of hair on top of his head were wet.

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe, his gaze dropping to the bag Mairon had brought with him.

“Don’t tell me. Is that  _ actually  _ dinner?”

Mairon just blinked, for a moment completely distracted by the sight. His gaze trailed down to take in Maedhros’ figure, his defined arms, the slightly visible outline of his abdominal muscles above the waistline of his slacks, and he felt his mouth go dry. It took him way too long to realize that Maedhros was still looking at him expectantly, with the hint of a sneer on his lips.

“What… yes. Dinner. Right.” 

The sudden urge to just walk over to him and put a hand on his skin to see whether those muscles underneath felt as great as they looked was overwhelming, but he refrained from doing so and instead put the bag onto the table.

“You’re welcome. I also picked up some other stuff that you might want.”

There was a look on Maedhros’ face like carefully but not entirely concealed amusement, and he took his time in crossing the distance to the table, only taking his gaze off Mairon once he could reach for the bag and rifle through it. But once he did, the expression fell from his face and was replaced with surprise and a flicker of relief. When he looked up at Mairon again this time, the corners of his mouth twitched softly.

“Does that mean you’re as tired of seeing me in a dress shirt as I feel?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t put it like that,” Mairon replied with a smirk. “Too bad I didn’t know your solution would be taking your shirt off altogether. Because if I had, I’m not sure if I would have brought you new clothes at all.”

A soft, somewhat disbelieving huff was Maedhros’ reply, coupled with a fitting look. But instead of saying anything, he dropped down onto one of the chairs, unwrapped the rich sandwich Mairon had brought him, and dug in. He looked ravenous as he did so, some tension draining from his shoulders as he let out a soft, relieved sigh. Mairon let himself drop onto the other chair, for the moment quite content to watch him eat and admire his built at the same time.

“There’s also an apple in there, some cookies and a bag of chips,” he informed him cheerfully. “I tossed in a can of beer, too, for temporary stress relief.”

Maedhros shot him another look, and this time it was more obvious that he was amused. “Temporary stress relief, hm? For that to do anything, I'm afraid it would have to be something quite stronger than beer.” Still, he already seemed more relaxed as he took his next bite leaning back in the chair, his long legs stretching out underneath the table.

“Stronger, mhmm.” Mairon pretended to think about that, enjoying every second of it. “Well, I told you I can be nice and I believe there is little that I couldn’t get you.” He bit his lower lip in a deliberate gesture. Fuck, Maedhros was so damn hot. If only he had come down a few minutes earlier so that he might have appreciated the sight of him without his pants on. “It’s just… a matter of price.”

Just like a proper, well-bred son of one of the richest people in the country, Maedhros swallowed his bite before answering, unconcerned. “I told you, I don’t - I can’t tell you anything about how to crack the encryption for the Silmarils. I’m neither an engineer nor a computer scientist. I'm just a manager.”

“Oh, fuck the Silmarils. I’m not even talking about them.”

That sure got Maedhros’ attention. Instead of taking the last bite of his sandwich, he studied Mairon, his clear grey eyes attentive.

“Fuck the Silmarils, huh?” he said slowly, thoughtfully, and popped the last bite into his mouth.

Mairon gave him a very self-satisfied grin, got off his chair and came closer so that Maedhros was within his reach, casually leaning against the table. “We both know I don’t really want to interrogate you about them, so what’s the point in pretending? Let others do the negotiations. I could think of way more interesting things to do with you in the meantime than trying to pick your brain about your old man’s passwords.”

To be able to keep his eyes on him, Maedhros had tipped his head back just a little. Mairon really wanted to know what he was thinking, but his expression was impossible to read, collected and alert even as he casually sucked the tips of his fingers clean.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing here, kid? You seem a little… in over your head,” he finally said, head tilting subtly as he watched him.

“Let’s see about that, shall we?”

And without thinking about what it was that he was doing, Mairon reached out to cup the back of Maedhros’ neck. Yet he didn’t quite reach his goal when, in the last possible moment, Maedhros’ hand shot up and gripped Mairon’s wrist. His bright grey eyes looking up at him were a warning as much as a challenge, and Mairon held his breath, heart hammering in his chest.

A part of him expected the older man to pull away, avert his gaze, send him away. But Maedhros did none of that sort, his gaze flickering briefly over Mairon’s face, and Mairon felt himself swaying closer instinctively, inevitably. But Maedhros, too, raised his chin a little, his fingers around Mairon’s wrist doubtlessly feeling the madly thudding heartbeat under the thin skin. He couldn’t help letting his gaze flicker down to Maedhros’ lips… how they parted, how a thumb brushed over the inside of his wrist.

It was an unmistakable invitation he was not going to decline. Without hesitation, Mairon surged forward and boldly pressed his lips to Maedhros’, cupping his cheek with his free hand. And he registered too many things at once, the warm skin under his palm, the hint of shadow on the other man’s jaw, the faint scent of curd soap - and lips responding under his, pressing up against his own with a little less force but clear enough intent, the fingers around his wrist giving a soft, brief squeeze.

If he had not already been high, he might as well have gotten high on this. Needing no further encouragement, Mairon let his grip on Maedhros' jaw become a little more fierce, his kiss more demanding. Shifting slightly to the side, he straddled Maedhros on his chair, knowing full well that the older man must sense that he was fully hard already, and delighting in the fact that an arm immediately came around his waist to steady him.

Finally, Maedhros let go of Mairon’s wrist only to bury his fingers in his hair instead, the grip firm but not painful, giving him enough hold to tilt Mairon’s head the way he wanted it. He met the demand with one of his own, parting Mairon’s lips beneath his without effort. Moaning slightly into the kiss, Mairon willingly gave in to it while he let his free hands travel further to explore that gorgeous body beneath him. One was trailing across the muscles of the arm that was still flung around his waist, the other made its way down Maedhros’ naked chest, his firm stomach and further to the waistline of his dress pants.

His reward was a soft sound caught in their kiss, muscles jumping under his hand, fingertips digging into his hip. Maedhros bit down on Mairon’s lower lip and let his hand wander, slipping in underneath the back of Mairon’s hoodie, his palm coming to rest on the small of his back. Like this he could easily press Mairon’s hips closer to his own, and…  _ yes _ , there was definitely something happening in those dress pants of his too. With a satisfied smirk, Mairon teasingly rocked against him, his fingers already toying with the buttons of the fly. 

“Still think I’m in over my head?” he asked breathlessly, pulling away from the kiss for a short moment. 

Maedhros took advantage of it to laugh, a rough, low sound, his eyes bright and sharp as he looked up at Mairon. “You don’t know the half of it.” His hands closed around Mairon’s hips, and he raised him off his lap and onto the edge of the table as he got to his feet. Suddenly a head taller, he stepped right in between Mairon’s thighs, fingers slipping underneath them. 

“Oh,  _ right,”  _ Mairon replied tauntingly, yet he couldn’t help a short, appreciative groan at being handled like that. His hands found Maedhros’ backside and, gently squeezing, he pulled him even closer, grinning at him mischievously. “Fuck, I want you so bad right now.”

He could see Maedhros’ eyebrows twitch and felt thumbs brushing over his hip bones that were just peeking out above his low-riding jeans. “This turns you on a lot, doesn’t it. That you really shouldn’t be doing this.” It wasn’t a question, and Maedhros ducked down, nipping lightly on Mairon’s neck which drew another moan from his lips.

“You’re one to talk…” One of Mairon’s hands slid between their bodies, his palm rubbing playfully over the tightly stretched fabric between Maedhros’ legs. “It takes no more than one scream from me, handsome, and the trouble you’re in right now will seem like a fucking picnic to you.” To emphasize his taunting words, he squeezed just a little, watching Maedhros’ face with excitement.

There was clear arousal in the grey eyes looking back at him that wasn’t wavering even at Mairon’s words. And he couldn’t help wondering if the oldest Fëanorian really was that unphased by his current situation, or if was just very good at hiding it. Maedhros’ fingertips dug into the underside of Mairon’s thighs and he closed the distance between them to suck hard on his lower lip for a moment.

“So I might just have to make sure to shut you up.”

“Do try.”

Everything about this man just made Mairon’s head spin in delight, and of course he was  _ right.  _ The mere thought of what they both risked, making out like this, turned him on more than he could say. Knowing that any minute, there might be steps coming down the stairs, the door opening to find them both in a rather compromising position, his thighs pressed firmly to Maedhros’ hips, his hand finally opening his fly and skilfully slipping inside.

He could watch how Maedhros’ eyelids fluttered briefly, how he took in a soft, sharp breath, his hips nudging up into Mairon’s hand. Then his gaze snapped back onto Mairon’s, and though he didn’t say anything, it seemed like he was only spurring him on. Mairon shuddered, wrapped his fingers around Maedhros’ cock and gave him a long stroke, and instantly, he was being kissed again, deeply, thoroughly. Mairon gave a muffled sound of delight and continued stroking him, slowly at first, enjoying both the feeling of smoothness and Maedhros’ increasing arousal. 

“Mmh. I remember some tabloids nicknaming you ‘Maedhros the Tall’ or something like that,” he muttered in a low, seductive voice. “If only they knew that it holds true for more than your height.” He broadly grinned up at him. “I bet I could make a  _ fortune  _ leaking to the press what a nice, big cock you have, don’t you think…?”

“You are a real brat, aren’t you,” Maedhros said in a voice that reminded Mairon of a growl. His left hand slid into Mairon’s hair and tipped his head back, the fingertips of his right tapped lightly against Mairon’s lips. “Come on, open up.”

“And look how it turns you on…” The last words came out a little inarticulate, as Maedhros slid his fingers in Mairon’s mouth once he opened it, yet Mairon was far from complaining. Not needing any additional request, he eagerly started sucking on the digits, his tongue playfully tracing along the sensitive fingertips. Fuck, he could not remember the last time had been this turned on. His own cock was almost painfully hard between his legs right now, aching against the restraints of his far too tight jeans.

Maedhros’ eyes never left him.

“Did you fantasize about this?” he wanted to know, his voice a low murmur as he watched Mairon suck on his fingers. “What do you want me to do with you, hm? What turns you on, Mairon?”

Maedhros’ fingers in his mouth blissfully offered him the perfect excuse not to answer the question right away, although the soft moans and gasps he let out spoke for themselves. In fact, Mairon could really only think of  _ one thing _ that he wanted him to do so badly that everything else went blank. Moving his hand that was still inside the other man’s pants more steadily now, the mere thought of how it would feel to have Maedhros inside him excited him to no end.

A soft, low chuckle went like a jolt down his spine and straight to his own cock that was straining desperately against his jeans.

“You’re very excitable, aren’t you.” Maedhros had dipped his head down again, his lips brushing a path down Mairon’s neck. “That’s pretty sexy. But you’re know you’re sexy, right? Would you want me to strip you down, spread you out on the table so I can have a proper look at you? Mmhh… You’re so enthusiastic about sucking on my fingers, as if you’d like sucking on my cock instead. As if you’d be  _ excellent  _ at it.”

This guy would end him, Mairon felt quite certain. And he wasn’t even out of his clothes yet.

“Fuck, yeah… I’d like that,” he managed to get out in between breaths, leaving it open to what exactly he was referring to. Not that he would have known either. “Just do whatever…” 

“Whatever, hm?” Maedhros’ thumb brushed along Mairon’s lower lip, his eyes appraising, sharp despite the flush of arousal that had spread on his cheeks since Mairon had started stroking him. But now he reached down, wrapped his fingers around Mairon’s wrist and pulled his hand out of his trousers, shushing him when a noise of protest escaped him. “You just gave me an invitation,” he reminded him, put a hand on Mairon’s chest and lightly pressed him back onto the table.

“Fine.” The glorious sight that Maedhros gave him - half-naked, defined upper body, pants open, flushed cheeks and fierce desire burning in those grey eyes - made it hard not to reach back up and simply pull him down on top of him for another kiss. Yet Mairon chose to comply and let him have his way, at least for the moment, even though he couldn’t resist pointedly rolling his eyes at him.

As a result, Maedhros clicked his tongue at him reprimandingly, but he didn't comment. Instead, he reached for the buttons of Mairon's jeans, calmly but firmly undoing them while his gaze lingered on his face. In a matter of heartbeats, long, slender fingers tugged down his jeans and underwear. He left them around mid-thigh and pushed the hem of Mairon's hoodie a little further up instead, and his warm hand came to rest on Mairon's stomach, thumb brushing over the sensitive skin. Watching him from half-closed eyes, Mairon squirmed just a little in anticipation, yet a self-satisfied grin found his lips.

“So… do you like what you see?”

Reaching out, his fingers found the hem of Maedhros’ trousers, tugging on them teasingly but barely getting them any further down than they were from his position. Above him, the redhead took a moment to let his gaze rake over Mairon, from his face over the hoodie down to his abdomen, and to where his cock was resting hard against his stomach.

“You’re a pretty little thing,” Maedhros said eventually, their eyes meeting again as he ran his fingertips along the underside of Mairon’s cock. The touch made Mairon shiver and drew a low moan from his lips. “Do you like this? Or is it better here?” Maedhros wanted to know, his touch wandering further down.

“Mhmm… I’m not that picky,” Mairon breathed, yet managed a somewhat shaky smirk. “Why don’t you just do whatever it is you do best?”

“Oh, you think you can handle that?” Maedhros raised his eyebrows at him, but there was a calculating look in his eyes as he wrapped his fingers around him and started stroking. “Don't forget that what you're used to is a selfish old bastard.”

“Fuck…” Gasping, Mairon’s eyes fell shut as he arched his hip eagerly into Maedhros’ touch. But they flew open again immediately at the mild sting of a hand lightly smacking the place right where his thigh and backside met.

“I'm talking to you.”

“Ouch.” Mairon growled and glared at Maedhros, although he could not help his cock twitching delightedly at the smack. He was sure that Maedhros had not missed it either. “If I can handle the ‘selfish old bastard’, why shouldn’t I be able to handle  _ you _ ? Not that you’re  _ that  _ much younger, by the way,” he couldn’t help adding with a teasing grin that left Maedhros seemingly unphased.

“I’m closer to you in age than to him,” he said, and it looked like there was something else on the tip of his tongue, but it didn’t make it out. Instead he tipped his head a little and glanced down to watch his own hand as it worked in steady strokes. “Why are you here, hm? Either you think that you might somehow wheedle information about my father’s encryption scheme out of me like this… or you’re really not sexually satisfied.”

Mairon could not help but laugh, a breathless sound. “Do you really care?”

“Oh I'm very curious,” Maedhros returned, and Mairon felt a his warm hand cradling his balls, a light, teasing caress.

“Fuck, do I really look like I’m interested in encryption schemes right now? Or anything that is not directly related to your cock?” Mairon hissed, his hips bucking. Damn, either Maedhros was way too good at this or he was sadly correct about his sexual satisfaction these days. “And I doubt a password your _father_ made up is about that. Unless he’s a sicker bastard than I thought.”

He received a low, genuinely amused sounding laugh in reply. “My cock, hm? One would think that you’d be most interested in everything directly related to  _ yours _ .” His fingertips trailed further back, briefly pressing against the soft skin behind his balls that sent a jolt through him, and then brushing lightly over his entrance. “I guess maybe you just really want me to fuck you. Is that it, Mairon?”

He bit his lip, an unwilling growl coming over his lips. “Wow. You’re not only hot but… also a master of deduction, aren’t you?” 

The wantonness in his voice did not work well with the smug undertone he had aimed for, even he could hear it. So he was not surprised that it did not ruffle Maedhros in any way. Instead the older man just hummed, sounding contemplative yet appreciative, and Mairon could see well enough how aroused he still was.

“Tell me then: Did you plan all this? How well prepared did you actually come here?”

“Plan…?” Mairon blinked in disbelief. “You’re giving me too much credit. What are you talking about?”

“A condom, at least, if not lube… no?” Mairon thought he could see an edge of disappointment to the wry grin Maedhros gave him. His left hand came to a rest still wrapped around Mairon's cock, only his thumb still brushing absent-mindedly under its head. “Then I guess you won't get to be fucked today. Well - at least not by me.”

“Oh,  _ come on. _ ” Mairon sighed, rolling his eyes at Maedhros. “It’s okay, I don’t really care.”

It was the wrong thing to say, he could see it right away in those silver-grey eyes that had suddenly lost their previous trace of humor.

“Well, I do.” Maedhros took both hands off him then just to reach for Mairon's hoodie and tug him back up into a sitting position. Once their faces were close again, Maedhros swiped his thumb over Mairon's chin. “But I can think of something else.”

Mairon gave him a sulky look, yet used the opportunity to run his hands along Maedhros’ sides and down to his stomach. “Please. That would be  _ highly  _ appreciated, Mr. Sex Ed Teacher.”

“You'd have been so lucky,” Maedhros snorted softly and kissed him again.

“Mhmm…” Mairon playfully bit down on his lower lip. “If he’d been as fuckable as you, I might have actually listened.”

“Too bad,” Maedhros murmured and nipped on Mairon's lip in turn before he tugged Mairon’s jeans off impatiently. Hands were brushing over Mairon's hips, wandering back to rest on his naked ass and pull him right up against Maedhros. Wrapping his legs around Maedhros’ waist and digging his hand into his still damp hair, Mairon pressed his lips demandingly against the older man's. It was a grudging attempt to win control over their kiss and Maedhros, if only for a few sweet moments. But he still felt slightly angry about being teased and turned on and then eventually spurned, and he wasn’t going to let it slide just like that. 

Whenever he had tried this with Melkor, his lover had always been quick to make it very clear that he was the one in charge. But Maedhros remained utterly calm, indulged him by allowing both the hand in his hair and the rougher turn of their kiss. Yet he didn’t yield an inch, firm and solid against Mairon, only his gasp soft into their kiss as they rubbed their hips against each other.

“So what will it be?” Maedhros finally said against his lips, a low hum that made Mairon squirm. “Do you want to suck my cock, or would you prefer my fingers inside you?”

“You don’t really think you deserve a blowjob from me right now, do you?” Mairon growled back, drawing an amused laugh from the other man.

“Fingers it is,” he smirked and pressed their lips together again, his fingertips brushing over Mairon’s jaw. “Wet them for me, will you?”

Huffing a little, Mairon obliged, although the eagerness with which he sucked on Maedhros’ fingers again possibly gave him away - certainly judging by the bright, intent look in the other man’s eyes. This time, however, he only kept his hand still long enough for Mairon to do as he had asked. Once his fingers were slick enough, Maedhros’ other hand, still resting on Mairon’s backside, pulled him precariously close to the edge of the table, and he reached down between their bodies. Tilting his hips into the touch, Mairon moaned softly when two of Maedhros’ long fingers entered him sure and unhurried. His hand that was still buried in the red hair grasped it just a little tighter.

“Fuck, yes, that’s more like it…”

“You like having something inside you, hm?” Maedhros’ lips brushed over his jaw while his fingers slowly thrust into him, gradually working themselves deeper. He pressed light kisses down his throat, and though his teeth grazed the sensitive skin, it wouldn’t be enough to leave any mark.

Mairon laughed breathlessly, rocking himself against his touch. “Well if ‘something’ is you… you’re not too bad for your age, I’ll give you that.”

A soft, low sound that had the edge of a growl was Maedhros’ reply. Mairon felt his arm slide around his waist and suddenly he was raised off the table, his thighs instinctively bracketing Maedhros’ hips tighter to hold himself up, his muscles clenching around the fingers inside him. With only three large steps Maedhros had crossed the distance to the dishevelled bed and deposited Mairon on it, kneeling right between his legs. His free hand nudged his knees apart and he thrust his fingers in deep. Mairon’s amused laughter ended in a groan as he let his head fall back onto the sheets. Eyes falling shut, his hand went to his own cock without even noticing. Yet he only had time for two long tugs before Maedhros pushed it aside again to make room for his own body, kissing his lips, his jaw, his neck, his fingers moving inside Mairon all the while.

A soft curse reached his ears. “I hate that I can't leave marks all over you.”

“Do you,” Mairon gasped, his fingers digging into Maedhros’ back, pressing himself against him. “Like this?” And he roughly started sucking on the spot where his neck and shoulder met, drawing a surprised, sharp gasp from the other man.

“Are you crazy?” he hissed, trying to pull away. Mairon couldn’t hide a delighted grin, thrilled madly that he had managed to throw Maedhros off his game if only for a moment.

“Thought you had figured that out already.”

This time the reaction he received was a soft huff and a rough twist of the fingers inside him, those grey eyes very close now as Maedhros looked at him intently.

“Indeed.”

He tried to hold his gaze, yet his eyes grew unfocussed as Maedhros continued to move his fingers inside him so deliciously, his gaze pressing him down into the mattress. The sensations, the look in Maedhros’ eyes and the fact that he was still high all seemed to blend into each other and left him moaning and gasping on the sheets. Impatiently, Mairon rocked his hips against Maedhros’ hand, too turned on to even mind the friction against the sensitive skin. But even with the small rocking motions, Maedhros obviously knew what he was doing - twisting his fingers just right, crooking them and sending jolts of pleasure through his body.

“Tell me,” he murmured, biting into Mairon’s earlobe. “Can you come like this? I want to see that…”

“Try me,” Mairon merely moaned as a response, his body shuddering in delight, and a hand quickly clapped over his mouth, cutting off the sound.

“I really do have to shut you up,” Maedhros huffed quietly, his weight now resting more on Mairon instead of on his arm. But there was amusement in his tone, and he shifted only for a moment to Mairon’s relief before he went back to fucking him with his fingers. “Come on then, beautiful, we’re going to make you come. Fuck… I’d make you  _ scream  _ if I could.”

And indeed he would have, if not for the hand still keeping his mouth shut and reducing the passionate sounds that escaped his throat to muffled noise. It furthered his excitement even more, and with the friction between their lower bodies, Maedhros muttering more sweet encouragements and obscenities in his ear and playing with his body so excellently as if he’d known him for  _ years _ , it did not take long until he shuddered violently as he came.

With an relieved sigh, his head fell back onto the bed, the world spinning when all the stored up tension delightfully left his body. Maedhros had already retreated his fingers before Mairon’s body had come down enough to feel uncomfortable at the friction of it, the bed shifting as his weight vanished. The soft sounds of footsteps, of rushing water, and only a few moments later Maedhros reappeared at his side. As he looked down into Mairon’s face, the look in his eyes was hard to read, though the corners of his mouth were twitching softly as he bent down and carded his fingers through Mairon’s hair.

“Knew you could,” he said and wiped the edge of a small, wet towel over his stomach.

“I know, I’m a prodigy,” Mairon muttered sarcastically. The cocaine had not worn off completely yet, providing him with energy still, and so pushed himself up to his elbows, eyeing Maedhros curiously, his gaze travelling down between his legs where he had done up his pants again. 

“What about you?”

Maedhros raised his eyebrows at him, a smile stretching on his lips. “Am I now deserving of an orgasm then?”

“Mhm. I might condescend to give you one,” Mairon grinned, tentatively reaching for the zipper of Maedhros’ pants again. But immediately, now familiar fingers wrapped around his wrist, and Maedhros’ gaze flickered to the door.

“I think you should go back upstairs. Or they’ll start wondering what exactly you’re doing down here that’s taking so long.”

Mairon rolled his eyes at him. “As if. Believe me, the guys upstairs are all muscle and no brain. Also, I’m supposed to be questioning you, did you forget?”

Maedhros hummed, looking contemplative for a moment. But when his eyes returned to Mairon, a grin flickered over his lips. “And what did you learn?”

“That apparently, at the age of thirty it becomes a challenge to hold an erection for more than ten minutes,” Mairon replied teasingly, slowly reaching for his own jeans, not without a slight sense of regret. But he couldn’t help looking at Maedhros as he laughed, low enough that it was unlikely anyone upstairs would hear him, but unmistakably honest.

“I do hope that won't hold true for you once you turn thirty. It's a terrible life, let me tell you,” he said ironically, pulling the fresh t-shirt Mairon had brought him over his head.

“Well, so do I. Luckily, I still have few of years until then,” Mairon replied in a seemingly unconcerned manner, buttoning his jeans. He felt a little annoyed that Maedhros would just let him go like this, even though he could feel the effects of the cocaine slowly wearing off and he could definitely use another line not too long from now.

Maedhros, however, appeared right in front of him before he had the chance to turn towards the door, an arm sliding around his waist, a hand on his hip drawing Mairon against him.

“Don't think your offer isn't appreciated,” Maedhros murmured close to his ear, lips brushing against his temple. “It'll be on my mind when I get myself off later.”

Mairon snorted softly, acting unimpressed, although he could not deny a certain appeal of that image. “Hm. What a regrettable waste, though.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say any of this was a waste.” The other man drew back just enough that he could tip Mairon’s head up and press a kiss to his lips. “And the anticipation will only make it better for the next time.”

“Let’s see about that,” Mairon shrugged, trying to play it cool. However, Maedhros’ words were sufficient to make his cock stir in his jeans once again. Damn, he  _ really  _ wanted another line now.

“I should be going,” he muttered, heading for the door, but stopped in its frame with a smirk. “But I’ll be back.”

“Don’t be long,” Maedhros returned without missing a beat, a small, wry grin of his own on his lips as he watched him leave. Locking the door behind himself, Mairon paused for a second, his hand resting against the cool metal. He took a deep breath, his knees feeling a bit weak all of a sudden. Being out of Maedhros’ presence, he now felt the familiar rush of anxiety that came from a fading high, his heart racing in his chest. 

_ What did you do, you fucking idiot. Melkor will kill you if he finds out. _

Mairon called himself to order. He would go upstairs and take a long, hot shower until nothing would remain of their encounter but a slightly sore but pleasurable feeling where Maedhros’ fingers had been. And if Melkor even showed up, he would act completely normal and he would never have to find out. Yes, that’s what he would do.

Closing his eyes, he deeply took in the delicious scent of the redhead that was still lingering on his skin. That and the memory of what had just happened was sufficient to make him harden again.

Damn it. Maybe the shower would have to wait a little longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't let it ever be said Maedhros isn't a schemer too.


	3. Decryption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mairon goes back to Maedhros to get what he wanted in the first place.

His stomach rumbled undeniably when the scent of fresh, warm food hit his nose through the crumpled brown paper of the bag with the burger logo. There was a smirk on Mairon’s lips when he put the bag down on the table. Maedhros assumed that he knew exactly that after the sandwich the day before, no one had bothered getting him any more food.

“Is no one ever going to bring me anything to eat except you?”

Maedhros didn’t once take his gaze off the young man as he unfolded his leg from under him and got up from the bed, strolling over to the table as casually as possible.

“Why? Would you prefer other company?” Mairon asked, leaning against the table and giving him a playfully huffy look. Instead of a wide hoodie, he was wearing a slim cut longsleeve shirt today that brought out his slender frame just nicely.

Maedhros was sure that it was no coincidence.

“Clearly not,” he smirked, drew the bag close to him and started unwrapping it. “Though if you're really the only one on food duty around here, I’d ask you to come visit more often.”

“Hm. I’ll think about it. Although…” There was some mischievous sparkle in the green eyes “There’s something sexy about you being all hungry and riled up when I get here. Maybe I like this.”

If Maedhros had harboured any doubts at all about whether Mairon had reconsidered what in the world he was doing here while he had been upstairs, they were gone now. Relief fluttered low in his gut, as well as a first inkling of arousal helped along by the memories of their time together yesterday.

Of course going along with Mairon's advances had ulterior motives on Maedhros' part. He hadn't entirely expected to actually be physically attracted to him like this, though.

“Be advised that such a tactic could backfire profoundly.” Maedhros cast a look at the young man that probably couldn’t entirely hide his amusement, and then glanced down into the now open burger bag.

A choked, surprised sound escaped him that might have been a laugh.

“Clever. Very clever.”

“So, what’s it going to be?” Mairon asked innocently. “Dinner first, like a good boy? Or do you want to be naughty and skip directly to dessert?”

Giving himself a moment to let the surge of arousal wash over him, Maedhros picked the tube of lube out of the paper bag that was nestled in next to the two burger boxes and fries, and found a couple of condoms right underneath. Another huff of amusement escaped him, the corners of his mouth twitching as he glanced back at Mairon.

He considered him for a long moment - keeping him on tenterhooks - while he placed all three items onto the table and wrapped the paper bag back up.

Fuck, he shouldn’t be enjoying this so much.

“Come here.”

A confident grin spreading all over his face, Mairon slowly walked around the table until he was standing before him. A finger teasingly traced the outline of his jaw. 

“Are we being naughty, then?”

That same familiar feeling from the day before started swirling low in his gut as Maedhros reached out for Mairon’s hips and pulled the young man that last step closer to him, delighting in the arousal he saw flashing in his green eyes.

“Out of the two of us, I would say you’re the one being naughty. Who am I to spurn such a willing temptation as yourself?”

Mairon bit his own lip, a purposeful gesture that nevertheless lost nothing of its appeal. “I am being  _ practical _ , Maedhros. I have work to do, like, trying to crack an encryption.” His hands cradled Maedhros’ face, caressing the faint stubble over his cheeks. “It’s pretty hard to concentrate when I can think of nothing but you fucking me.”

The words sent an unexpectedly intense thrill through him, and for a brief moment Maedhros wondered if he truly had missed so desperately to feel this desired. But he pushed the thought away and tipped his face into Mairon’s hands, allowing himself to be drawn in by his beautiful green eyes.

“If that’s the case though, I should send you away again. Do whatever I can to prevent you from concentrating at all.”

Yet what he did was to tip his head down so their foreheads met, and to slide his hands over Mairon’s backside, appreciatively giving it a squeeze.

“Yeah, maybe you should. Fuck, one look at you and all I can think of are passwords and encryption keys,” Mairon said ironically, burying one hand in Maedhros’ hair. Tipping his own head up, he drew him in for a hungry kiss.

There was something about this kid… Maedhros couldn't help wondering again if he was still trying to play at some sort of elaborate manipulation, if he was bored, or lonely, or simply turned on by doing reckless, dangerous things. It would certainly explain how he had ended up with Melkor.

But the question dissolved again fast enough, making way for the thrill of the kiss that shot through his veins for a whole multitude of reasons. The many hours during the night before during which he had tried to detangle why he did all this - why he did not just go along but actively engaged in this madness - stopped mattering again for the moment as his hands slipped under Mairon’s thighs and he hoisted him up off his feet. Immediately, he felt Mairon’s legs wrapping around his waist, the slender body pressing tentatively against Maedhros’ own.

“Mhm, that’s it,” Mairon muttered into his ear. “You know, I can’t help thinking I still owe you for yesterday. Help me settle my debt here, will you?”

“You want to make me come, hm?” A shiver of anticipation ran down Maedhros’ spine, and he ground his hips up against Mairon’s, feeling himself straining against the front of the jeans the boy had given him. Without waiting for an answer, he put him down onto the bed, detangling himself from the grip of his legs and reaching back to pull his own shirt over his head. Mairon made an appreciative sound at the sight, propping himself up far enough to run a hand over Maedhros’ stomach and further down, the palm of his hand rubbing teasingly over the front of his jeans. 

“Oh, you bet I do. You unfairly withheld that pretty, big cock from me yesterday, but not today.”

A soft, incredulous huff escaped Maedhros and he shook his head, barely managing to refrain from rolling his eyes. “You’re a big talker,” he smirked, bent down and bit into Mairon’s lower lip. “Put your money where your mouth is and get out of your clothes.” And he pressed their lips together, pulled away and went to get both lube and condom from the table.

“Yes, sir, right away,” Mairon commented from behind him. Yet despite the sarcastic undertone in his voice, he had already gotten rid of his shirt and was eagerly pushing down his jeans when Maedhros returned to the bed. The boy really did like being told what to do at least in bed, he mused with a small, private grin, and took a moment to watch him instead of joining him on the bed right away.

Now that he finally had the chance to fully see Mairon naked, he let his gaze trail over his chest and stomach, the slender hips, their shape already familiar under his hands. He still had a somewhat boyish figure, but lacking the gangling awkwardness of many young men who grow in height too fast. It reminded Maedhros of the fact that he still did not know exactly how old Mairon was. His self-assured, deliberately tempting behavior as well as the way he seemed completely comfortable with himself and his body in every moment suggested he might be older than he looked.

Mairon gave him a challenging grin, as if he had read his mind, the green eyes sparkling with mischief. “So are you going to do something or are you just going to stand there and gawk at me?”

“Oh don’t pretend you don’t like being looked at,” Maedhros smirked. He reached out to thread his fingers into the blond hair and tug lightly, appreciating the way Mairon looked, head tipped up and lips parted. “You know you’re a pretty thing, and you like showing it off.”

“Hmm.” The self-satisfied look in the green eyes told Maedhros he had clearly been right with his assumption. “Well, I won’t pretend it’s not nice being appreciated. Especially by someone as gorgeous as you,” Mairon smiled, running a hand up the back of Maedhros’ thigh. 

_ Like Fingon. _

The thought came unbidden and was accompanied immediately by that familiar stumble and sting in his chest, the mix of feeling pained and startled at the same time, at the fact that it could still hit him out of the blue like this. It was maybe the first thing about Mairon that truly reminded him of Fingon, this love for being appreciated, in gazes, words, touches.

His mouth suddenly dry, Maedhros forced himself to focus on Mairon’s face - different features, different hair, different eyes - to stay in the moment. Heart now hammering, the hand that wasn’t still tangled in the blond strands reached for the front of his own jeans to get them undone.

“I can only give that back to you,” he told Mairon truthfully, voice sounding rougher in his own ears than it had before.

Mairon didn’t seem to have noticed anything off though. He laughed, his fingers squeezing Maedhros’ backside and sliding under the waistband of his jeans. “It’s not as if the rest of your entertainment options were very competitive, though. Except for me, you really have nothing to do down here.”

True enough, Maedhros had to admit. “Good thing I have you then,” he replied dryly, took his hand away the moment button and zipper were undone and left it to Mairon to push his jeans down over his hips.

Humming approvingly, Mairon playfully trailed one finger along his hardened cock. “Mhm, what would you like me to do, then?”

A small shudder went through Maedhros’ body, both from the touch and the anticipation. He knew that Mairon just wanted to  _ hear it _ , and he certainly wasn’t going to refuse him now. Holding those green eyes, he let his fingers card through his hair again.

“I want you to put your mouth around my cock and prove to me you’re as good at this as you’re acting.”

He could still catch a glimpse of the smirk on Mairon’s lips as he bowed his blond head. Mairon’s fingers closed firmly around his shaft, his warm tongue following the same path his finger had taken before.

“As if I had to be particularly  _ good  _ at this.” Mairon muttered, his warm breath ghosting over wet skin and sending delicious shivers down Maedhros’ spine. “I believe you love the thought that you’re getting your cock sucked by the lover of the very guy that abducted you. And that he doesn’t know a thing about it.” Almost lazily, his tongue was circling the head now. “Isn’t that right, Mae.”

Maedhros let out a slow, deep breath, never taking his gaze away. That same dark thrill ran through him that had already sprung up in his chest when he had first seen Mairon look at him with clear desire.

“You’re right.” He brushed his thumb over Mairon’s temple, then tightened his fingers just a little in his hair, gently but unmistakably guiding him deeper. “I love that he thinks he’s getting anything out of this, while I get to fuck you behind his back. But don’t be under any illusions: I can still tell if you’re good or not.”

He heard Mairon snorting derisively, but apparently Maedhros’ words had spurred his ambition, or he felt he had finally talked enough for now. Maedhros felt wet heat engulfing him as Mairon took him in deep, sucking his cock as eagerly as he had his fingers the day before. And damn, the boy  _ was  _ great at this, changing perfectly between bobbing his head back and forth in a steady rhythm, and then pausing to sensually run his tongue over the sensitive underside. Maedhros wanted to close his eyes, lean back and just enjoy this, let the young man work him to an orgasm that would doubtlessly be amazing.

But Mairon had gone to such lengths that Maedhros wanted to deprive neither of them of what they had already wanted to do yesterday.

So he kept watching even when his hips started flexing slowly, wanting to thrust forward into the welcoming heat, his own breath starting to come heavier with every time that clever tongue played with the underside of his cock. And eventually, both of his hands grasped Mairon’s shoulders and he pulled away, waiting for Mairon’s eyes to snap up to his before he spoke.

“Turn around.”

Mairon gave him a sweet smile, in no hurry to follow his request. “Good enough for you, then?” he asked, a challenging glint in his eyes that made the corners of Maedhros’ mouth twitch in amusement and arousal. He ran his hands up Mairon’s neck until he could cup his face, tipping his head up and leaning down so he could press his lips against Mairon’s in a rewarding kiss, short but thorough.

“You were  _ very  _ good. You’re right - I should have told you. Promise I will next time.”

And it was more than just a concession - Maedhros watched the boy’s reaction very closely, knowing that, either way, it would tell him something about his relationship to Melkor. And indeed, Mairon gave him a look that was somewhere between mildly amused and surprised, obviously not having expected this kind of response. But for once, he chose not to comment on Maedhros’ words but simply did as he had been asked and turned around onto his hands and knees, a very self-satisfied smirk on his lips.

Filing the exchange and Mairon’s reaction away, Maedhros finally climbed onto the bed behind him, picking up the condom packet that had been nestled between the sheets. In a matter of moments, he had put it on and reached for the tube of lube next, his other hand propping himself up over Mairon so he could tip his head down and press a kiss to his shoulder.

“How much preparation do you need?”

Mairon gave him a taunting look over his shoulder. “Are you confusing me with your virgin girlfriend all of a sudden? I want you to fuck me, not to coddle me.”

Pointedly unphased, Maedhros glanced back at him, taking his time in using the lube to slick himself up. “Oh no, you’re the one confusing me with your asshole lover. I’m going to tell you something now, Mairon: I don’t care if you like it, but if I ask you a question like that, you answer it. Do that, and I’ll give you what you want. I might even spank you a little… you seemed to like that. So what is it?”

Mairon hesitated for a moment, his green eyes dark, and Maedhros could only guess what was going on in his mind. Then he huffed and shrugged a little. “I should be good like this. I’ll let you know if I’m not.” He paused, the familiar smirk back on his lips as he added sarcastically, “Does that satisfy your control issues, sir?”

“It does,” Maedhros returned around a small huff. He tried not to let his mind wander and analyze what he had learned, instead putting one hand on the nape of Mairon’s neck and reaching down with the other to guide himself to his entrance. It would serve neither of them well if he got into this now, even in his head. So he pressed forward instead, and the muscles in his stomach tightened reflexively as he breathed through the feeling of the tight ring of muscle slowly yielding to the head of his cock.

“Fuck… Maedhros…” He heard Mairon taking in a sharp breath, yet he gave in to the pressure easily, even pushing back against him, eager to have him go deeper. And Maedhros wasn’t even sure if it was more that or the way he had breathed out his name that sent a jolt through him. But knowing now that Mairon was indeed just fine, his hips pressed forward instinctively, rocking up into him, and he pressed the soft groan that escaped him against Mairon’s shoulder. The blonde was less considerate, as usual, moaning unabashedly as Maedhros pushed further into him.

“Damn, Mae, you’re big… no don’t stop, you feel fucking  _ awesome… _ ”

“Shh… fuck…” His hand that wasn’t propping him up over Mairon on the bed came up to brush over his shoulder, then his hair, wishing he didn’t have to tell him to keep quiet. “Oh that’s perfect… you’re doing so well, taking me like this.” Maedhros rocked forward again, deeper, riding on the wave of pleasure that rolled through him at the feeling. He pressed his forehead against the top of Mairon’s spine, then his lips, and then bit into the side of his neck, remembering just in time not to make it hard enough to leave a mark. He was rewarded with a hiss turing into a groan and the feeling of the slender body pushing back against him even more fiercely.

“Yes, like that… oh that feels so damn good… fuck, give me  _ more. _ ”

Mairon’s fists were digging into the sheets to get a better hold, while the bed was already starting to creak treacherously from their combined movements the more Maedhros settled into a rhythm. For a long moment it felt too good for him to mind, every rocking motion getting him a little deeper, each thrust a little harder. But with the way Mairon vigorously pushed back against him, after a few moments the creaking noise rose to a worrying level so that Maedhros cursed, reached around to press his hand against Mairon’s stomach and slowed them down.

Already knowing that Mairon would curse at him, he immediately pulled him along with his hand, sat back down on the bed and settled Mairon in his lap.

“Your turn,” he murmured, teasing his hand over Mairon’s stomach.

As expected, the boy gave him a half dismayed, half amused glance over his shoulder. “What, out of breath already?” 

Yet despite the tease, Mairon willingly started moving his hips in a steady, tantalizing rhythm, still watching him from the corner of his eyes. Maedhros didn’t dignify his tease with a reply, just let the corners of his mouth twitch and tipped his head up to catch Mairon’s lower lip between his teeth. Tugging on it first, he kissed him next, both hands now on Mairon’s hips to feel their rhythm, guide and encourage him.

“You feel amazing,” he breathed into their kiss, and  _ meant  _ it. So eager, more than anything, and Maedhros loved it.

“Mmhhh… and you fill me up so nicely, Mae,” Mairon muttered against his lips and Maedhros could just feel him smirking against them. Mairon’s fingers grasped his thighs, using them to gain more traction, a lustful groan coming over his lips. “Fuck. I could go to town on your cock all day.”

“You should.” A soft, breathless laugh escaped Maedhros, and he reached around him to wrap his hand around Mairon’s cock, stroking him in time with Mairon’s own movements. “Or I guess you shouldn’t… but I wouldn’t mind. After all, there’s nothing else for me to do around here.”

“How good for me, then,” Mairon muttered, but his words ended in a loud gasp when Maedhros’ hand closed around him just a little tighter. “Oh _ damn _ , that’s so -”

Before he could finish whatever he was about to say, Maedhros had clapped his free hand over his mouth again.

“Stars, Mairon, are you  _ trying  _ to call the cavalry down here?” he hissed, heart skipping in nervousness as much as delight. Eru, but he wished he could really do it, let Mairon be as loud as he wanted, make good on his words and actually make him scream. This way, he could merely hear Mairon muffle some kind of angry protest against his hand. Obviously not in the mood to be reasonable, he tried to slap Maedhros’ hand away as he continued to push himself down on his lap, and under other circumstances, Maedhros would have loved it.

As it was, he kept his hand pressed over Mairon’s mouth and hissed into his ear, “I promise you I’m going to fuck you into the mattress if you promise me that you’re going to bite your tongue and  _ keep quiet _ .”

For a moment, Mairon stopped his movements altogether, again looking back at him over his shoulder, the gleam in his eyes telling clearly how thrilled he was by the entire situation. Holding his gaze for a few seconds, Mairon eventually nodded, making a soft sound that was somewhere between approval and a choked moan.

“Good,” Maedhros murmured, hard pressed to keep the twitching of the corners of his mouth from stretching into a smirk, heat curling in his gut. For just a moment he held Mairon’s gaze, then wrapped his arm around his waist and pushed himself and Mairon along with him up off the bed. Sure that the boy wouldn’t mind - quite the contrary - he simply manhandled him back onto his knees, this time facing the wall so he could stand right behind him. “Brace yourself.”

“Why, is that a threat?” Mairon teased, although he took his words in the literal sense and propped himself against the wall, gazing at Maedhros over his shoulder expectantly.

“Just making sure I keep my promise,” Maedhros smirked back mildly and leaned forward to press their lips together one more time. For a moment, the reminder of Mairon’s own lay on the tip of his tongue, but he decided not to voice it after all. Instead, he put both hands on Mairon’s hips and finally started thrusting into him the way he had wanted to - long, deep and relentless. As before, Mairon eagerly pushed back against him, spreading his thighs wider to taker Maedhros in deeper. And damn, it did turn him on how obviously Mairon was struggling to stay quiet now, gasping and trying to keep down his moans so they came out more like a desperate whimper - just as much as it turned him on that Mairon honestly tried to do what he had told him to.

What a ridiculous thing, that they had sex under such conditions. That Mairon was this stupidly reckless, that Maedhros inexplicably wanted him the way he did. He suspected that the young man would aggravate him to no end if he ever tried to get along with him in any situation that wasn’t related to…  _ this _ . That spark that had danced between them from the moment they had first started talking.

The bed wasn’t creaking so much now that they were both braced against wall and floor, giving Maedhros the last reassurance he needed to let go. Now the rapid sound of skin slapping against skin might just be the loudest that filled the room, only rivalled by Mairon’s bitten back whimpers and moans that mingled with Maedhros’ gasps and quiet groans - until Maedhros remembered the other part of his promise and, out of the blue and fuelled by the moment, gave Mairon’s backside a good smack. He was rewarded with a surprised, half-loud gasp and Mairon glaring at him over his shoulder.

“What the fuck, Mae?” he growled, yet sounding way too turned on to actually be annoyed.

Maedhros watched him curiously, slowing down a little, his hand petting the spot where it had previously landed. “Don’t like it after all?”

Mairon rolled his eyes at him and smirked. “ _ You  _ wanted me to be quiet…”

“Well, you’re doing an admirable job,” Maedhros smiled back, leaning forward to steal a kiss from those smirking lips, at the same time rolling his hips up into Mairon leisurely. Luckily, the resulting moan was absorbed by Maedhros’ lips.

“No thanks to you,” Mairon muttered when their lips parted. There was a fine layer of sweat on his skin, the blond hair on his temples slightly darker than before, and Maedhros found himself unable to stop looking at it.

Starting to pick up his pace again, he pressed his lips to Mairon's temple and murmured, “Here's your warning: I'm going to do it again.”

“Fucking control freak,” Mairon muttered under his breath, which Maedhros counted as approval. Smiling to himself, he took the time to get back to their previous rhythm, letting himself enjoy the way Mairon felt around him, his struggle with keeping quiet, the eager way he nevertheless arched his back to press into the thrusts, the beautiful image of him burning into his memory. And finally, he smacked his backside again, biting down on a moan of his own at the way it made Mairon twitch and tighten reflexively around him. So he did it again, delighted to see how Mairon tensed up and squirmed, the way he bit his lip to suppress any sound.

“Fuck… Mae… I can’t…”

Just hearing him like this… Maedhros could feel himself teetering on the brink, yet he somehow found the presence of mind to reach around, to cup the head of Mairon’s cock against his stomach. Just in time - or maybe it was the touch of his hand that finally pulled a wrecked sound from the young man, let him tense and twitch against and around Maedhros and come into the palm of his hand. And there was no way he could or wanted to hold out after that.

Maedhros pressed his moan against Mairon’s shoulder, riding out his release with short, involuntary little thrusts. The air smelled distinctively of sweat and satisfied lust as he eventually leaned against the warm and inviting body, Mairon’s heavy breathing echoing sweetly in his ear. 

“Damn. That was… fucking amazing.”

The words stirred Maedhros out of his beautiful post-orgasm haze, a smile flickering over his lips. He hummed and brushed his clean hand over Mairon’s hip, caressing it while he gave himself a moment to nuzzle against the strands of blond hair.

“Yeah… you were amazing,” Maedhros murmured, breathed deeply and reached down to hold on to the edge of the condom as he carefully pulled out. WIth a groan, Mairon let himself drop down on the sheets, watching Maedhros out of half-closed eyes.

“When you discard that, you can bring me my burger when you get back.”

Maedhros huffed softly, giving his voice a sarcastic tone. “What, I thought they were both for me.”

Mairon snorted. “Just because you got my ass doesn’t mean you get my food, too. Don’t be so greedy.”

Just in time, Maedhros was able to turn down the volume of the laugh that escaped him on his way to the bathroom, still smirking to himself as he flushed the condom and washed Mairon’s come off his hands. The thought of the waiting food indeed watered his mouth now, so he went back the moment he was done, combing his ruffled strands of hair back with his fingers.

Mairon was still sprawled naked on the bed, now lounging comfortably on his back. Maedhros was sure that it was an invitation to look at him again, and so he did, smirking mildly as he snatched his underwear off the floor and stepped back into it.

“You seem comfortable.”

“Mhm. Not so bad down here, is it?” Mairon replied with a lazy smile, making Maedhros snort quietly. A quick glance revealed to him the location of the younger man’s clothes, which he gathered in one hand and took up the paper bag with the other.

“Believe me, it gets boring fast.”

He dropped Mairon’s clothes on his chest and then lifted his feet out of the way so he could make himself comfortable on the foot end of the bed. Yet he found himself confronted with Mairon's feet nudging teasingly against his backside. 

“I believe I asked for my burger, not my clothes.”

“You’re getting dressed before you’re eating,” Maedhros told him mildly, picking up the box with the fries first. “I’m not fancying that sort of risk over a burger.”

“You’re such an ass,” Mairon growled without any real sting to it and reluctantly started getting into his clothes. “Also you’re wearing  _ nothing  _ but boxer briefs.”

“Fair,” Maedhros couldn’t help grinning and plopped a couple more fries into his mouth. But then he did place the bag down on the bed and got back up, putting on his own jeans and shirt again.

Once back on the bed, he divided the burger boxes between the two of them, his stomach rumbling as he unpacked his.

“I’m twenty-nine, by the way. Not thirty.”

“Oh, I know,” Mairon grinned, heartily biting into his burger. “A sensitive topic, it would seem.”

“Sensitive to any twenty-niner,” Maedhros replied self-deprecatingly, giving the younger man a one-shouldered shrug. “I hope you enjoyed turning twenty, last milestone of the sort you’ll have been happy about.”

Mairon gave him a sweet smile. “Well, I wouldn’t know yet. I’m seventeen.”

Maedhros almost choked on his bite, half because of a laugh, half because his heart actually missed a beat. He coughed, needing a moment to sort himself out until he could breathe again, giving Mairon a look.

“No you’re not,” he said as soon as he could, determinedly ignoring the way his heart started hammering.

Mairon tilted his head, playfully scowling at him. “What - not turned on by the idea that you managed to fuck a school boy?”

“No.” Maedhros cleared his throat, glaring at Mairon. No, there was no way he could have misjudged like this… could he? “Again - I’m not your asshole lover. You’re not seventeen. But  _ he  _ did that, didn’t he.”

Mairon shrugged, having another bite of his burger. “Well, maybe I’m not always honest about my age. One way or the other.”

There was something on the tip of his tongue, but after a moment, Maedhros closed his mouth again and just considered Mairon. There was a confusing ball of emotions all tangled up in the pit of his stomach. Anger at Melkor - that one was the easiest to figure out. Sympathy for the young man next to him, for reasons he couldn’t entirely untangle yet either. Sadness too, the most quiet but heaviest out of them.

Finally, Maedhros shifted and nudged his toes against Mairon’s thigh the way Mairon had done with him earlier. “Will you tell me?”

Instead of answering right away, Mairon stuffed the rest of his burger into his mouth, and Maedhros couldn’t help the feeling that he was trying to buy time while thinking about his answer. Watching him contemplatively, Mairon chewed and swallowed before he finally answered the question.

“Twenty.”

When Maedhros breathed out silently, there was relief in it, he couldn’t deny it. But he figured that Mairon would prefer not making a big deal out of it, so he gave him a soft, wry smile and nudged him with his toes again.

“Knew it.”

Mairon snorted, reaching for the fries. “You did not. You were just  _ hoping  _ you were right.” He gave Maedhros a gleeful grin. “Oh, you should have seen how you cringed at the thought of having just been balls-deep in a minor. It was epic.”

“You’re a real brat,” Maedhros growled, even though he couldn’t muster any sharpness to his words. “I was  _ pretty sure _ I was right.” He finished the rest of his burger and cleaned his fingers with the napkin from the paper bag, but then watched Mairon again, unable not to. There was doubtlessly something intriguing about the kid. “So, what… you have a thing for older men?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” was the amused response, “but it certainly seems as if they have a thing for  _ me _ .”

Maedhros sighed and stole another fry from Mairon. “You know, I’m not bothered by being attracted to you. What I  _ am  _ bothered by is that there’s an area on this plane of existence where I can be thrown in with  _ Melkor _ . No offence to you.”

Now Mairon was laughing. “No offence to  _ you _ , but that seems like something you should have considered before taking your pants off.”

“Well, what can I say,” Maedhros smirked back at Mairon, attempting to keep their mood in light territory, “you’re very tempting.”

“Hmm. Your ex-boyfriend was also quite a bit younger than you, if I remember correctly,” Mairon said lightly. “Sure there is no pattern there?”

So much for the light territory.

For a moment, Maedhros busied himself with collecting the boxes and napkins to stuff them back into the paper bag, fighting down that old, familiar surge of anger, pain, and loneliness that always seemed to accompany the very thought of Fingon.

_ It’s been half a year, pull yourself together. _

“Four years is nothing compared to those… what… twenty years to yours?” he finally said, raising his eyebrows at Mairon.

“But you’re the one who’s pretending to be oh-so-moral,” Mairon mused with an amused gleam in his eyes. “Your ex is also your cousin, you must have known him for quite some time. So you kept your hands all to yourself before his eighteenth birthday?”

Maedhros forced himself to take a slow, deep breath, aware how that mix of emotions tightened into a familiar knot in the pit of his stomach.

“Why are we talking about my ex-boyfriend?” he finally said, vaguely proud of himself that his voice sounded unaffected enough, and lightly tossed the balled up paper bag at Mairon’s head.

“Because you keep asking about Melkor and me,” Mairon smiled amiably and tossed the hall back. Maedhros huffed and cast it back and forth between his own hands.

“Because that’s a thing of the present, and relevant to my situation. No - wait, my  _ violent abduction _ , let’s call it what it is.”

“Why would you think our relationship is relevant to you?”

He gave Mairon a look. “Oh, I don’t know. Does it not have any influence on you being here?”

“You know, I am actually here for plenty of reasons,” Mairon said with raised eyebrows, “and believe it or not, I happen to have some useful skills outside of the bedroom as well.”

Maedhros hummed and tossed the paper ball back at Mairon. “I know. That’s why he sent you to me. But that’s not why you’re here.” The corners of his mouth curled into a half-smile. “After all, you don’t give a damn about encryptions or passwords.”

Mairon shrugged. “I certainly don’t like wasting my time, that’s true. And I would consider the past thirty minutes well spent.”

Finally, Maedhros gave in to an urge he’d had almost since they had started eating and talking, sitting here beside each other. He reached over, wrapped his arm around Mairon’s hip, and pulled the young man over and onto his lap so he could tip his head up and press another short kiss to his mouth.

“So would I.”

Mairon made a sound that reminded Maedhros of a very self-satisfied cat, his body eagerly pressing against Maedhros’. “Mmh. I might come back for more.”

The words weren’t that much of a surprise, but nevertheless they felt both relieving and exciting. For various reasons, Maedhros knew that this was exactly what he had to do: make Mairon want to keep returning to him.

So he brought his hand to caress the small of Mairon’s back and tipped his head up to kiss him again, longer, slower and more indulgent than before.

“I’m looking forward to that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that. They're actually getting along! (Mairon, remember you actually have a job down there?)


	4. All Fun and Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maedhros tries to improve the conditions of his imprisonment. Mairon is more or less eager to accommodate him.

“Finally! _Stars_ , where have you been?”

Mairon was met with a glare out of stormy grey eyes, and before he knew it, the boxes were snatched right out of his hands.

“And I was thinking for a moment you had _actually_ missed me,” he scowled playfully, though he couldn’t suppress a grin. Somehow, seeing Maedhros all vexed never failed to amuse Mairon… and to massively turn him on, if he was being honest with himself. 

The reply he received was a sound somewhere between a huff and a grunt. Maedhros had already raised the flap of the pizza box before he had even sat down at the small table, yet despite the obvious hunger with which he picked up the first slice, he scowled.

“Seriously though - hot dogs yesterday, chicken wings the day before, tacos, and the burgers and fries, pizza now… Is fast food all anyone ever eats in this place?”

“I thought you were hungry. Now it just seems like you’re being picky,” Mairon teased. “So what kind of food _do_ you like, then?”

Maedhros let out a soft huff around the first bite of pizza that, admittedly, tasted incredible in his hunger. Still he paused for an answer before the next bite. "Modern, clean, seasonal food. There are some seriously good places out there. Hirilorn down in Doriath has always been amazing. There's a newer place in Gondolin, Gar Ainion. A little less high class, the food is incredible. You should try it some time," he added, knowing suddenly that if - _when_ \- he got out of here again, going out to eat there would be in his top five of things to do.

Mairon shrugged, deliberately acting unimpressed. “I don’t know, sounds like some lame hipster thing to me.” 

Coming closer, he tried to steal a slice of pizza out of the box while he believed Maedhros to be distracted. But of course, a hand came snatching his wrist immediately before he had the chance to raise it to his mouth.

“You’re bringing me food once a day, don’t even bring a meal for yourself, _and_ insist on stealing what little food I get?” Maedhros scowled up at him.

Mairon just grinned down at him, enjoying every second. “Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re mad.”

“You’re officially impossible.” With a glare that, as Mairon could see, lacked true heat, Maedhros snatched the slice he had attempted to steal out of his hand again. “Sit down, keep your hands to yourself and let me eat.”

Mairon tilted his head, smiling sweetly. “Can I sit wherever I want? I have a suggestion…”

***

Mairon loved the stubble that covered Maedhros’ jaw and neck by now. Not only because of the roguish, rebellious look it gave him but especially because of the way it felt on his skin, tickling and scratching in just the right way so he couldn’t suppress a moan. He wished the other man could leave some beard burn on his skin, but as always, he was too conscious, too careful for that.

What he wouldn’t complain about, however, was the conscious way Maedhros moved inside him, his thrusts not fast but deep and angled _just right_.

“You’re into morning sex, right?” Lips wandering over his neck, a hint of teeth grazing the skin. Maedhros’ voice was deep and a little rough, just the way it had been the previous four times they’d had sex. “Still all sleepy and loose-limbed… what do you think?”

“Huh? Hmmm…” It wasn’t morning, far from it, and Mairon had difficulties following and focusing on anything that wasn’t Maedhros’ lips trailing over his skin, his tall body pressed so deliciously close against him, his cock filling him in an exceptionally satisfying way.

Maedhros’ lips wandered further up his throat, arriving at his mouth so they could kiss again while he rocked into him deeply. “I think you’d love it,” he murmured into their kiss, nipping on his lower lip. “Did you wake up hard this morning? Yesterday? _This_ was the first thought on your mind, wasn’t it?” he wanted to know, punctuating his words with a pointed, sharper thrust into him.

“Fuck… yeah,” Mairon groaned, leaving it open whether he was commenting what Maedhros was saying or doing. He was right, of course: When he had woken up this morning, still drowsy, his hand had wandered between his own legs first thing while he had recalled the events from last night, how they’d done it against the bathroom door, how Maedhros had lifted him up and held him there with ease…

“Now, listen. Are you listening?” Maedhros was propped over him on one forearm, and now his other hand came up to his chin, fingers lightly tipping Mairon's head so he could direct his gaze to him, never ceasing the rolling motions of his hips. He never allowed Mairon's thoughts to drift for more than a moment, always bringing him right back to the here and now.

“Mhm hmm,” Mairon replied, pushing his knees up a little more to let Maedhros get even deeper, enjoying the feeling how his thighs were pressed against the firm body, his hands roaming freely over Maedhros’ back, enjoying how the muscles moved beneath his skin. “Stars, you feel _so good_ …”

And Maedhros obviously wasn’t entirely impervious to that sort of praise either, since a soft, pleased sound escaped him and he captured Mairon’s lips in a deep, thorough kiss. Still propped up on one arm, the other went under Mairon’s thigh, hitching his leg up further until it rested on his shoulder and Mairon was all but bent in half.

“ _Listen_ ,” the older man started again once their kiss finally broke, something in the tone of his voice that brought Mairon’s gaze back to his face, and to indeed listen through his wound-up, delicious haze. “When you wake up tomorrow, you’re not going to touch yourself. You’re going to get out of bed and dress in as little as possible - no underwear, do you hear me? You’re going to get breakfast for both of us, then come straight down here. Tell me you got all that.”

“Uh huh. Got it,” Mairon only managed to get out. Damn, that sounded hot. The words and the sound of Maedhros’ voice seemed to go straight to his own cock, and that, as well as the changed angle that spread him open so exquisitely, was rushing him towards his own release. 

“Mae… _fuck_ , Mae, I’m…”

“So eager,” Maedhros murmured breathlessly and tipped their foreheads together, bracing himself with both hands over Mairon to move faster. “Beautiful…”

Mairon’s moan was muffled with another kiss, his heart hammered, and there - _yes_ \- _fuck_ yes -

***

Maedhros stared at him incredulously, then looked back down onto the table, and then back into Mairon’s face again.

“ _What?_ ”

“Hmmm?” Mairon answered, stifling a yawn. “I couldn’t potentially wear less, you know. I was considering a bathrobe, but that might have come with a lot of questions.” 

Maedhros wouldn’t have needed to see the treacherous gleam in Mairon’s eyes to know that the misunderstanding was all feigned. A part of Maedhros just wanted to laugh - possibly somewhat hysterically - while the other, decidedly less amused part, made him narrow his eyes in irritation. He gestured at the two mugs of coffee that were steaming on the table.

“And you really want me to reward you for ignoring half of what I said?”

Mairon raised his eyebrows, pretending to be surprised. “What, you don’t like coffee?”

“I said _breakfast_ , not _coffee_ ,” Maedhros growled, but even as he did, he could see the flash of arousal in Mairon’s green eyes.

Stars, what a little _brat_.

But as much as it aggravated him, Maedhros couldn’t deny that it tickled a part of him too, this dynamic they were settling into. How eagerly Mairon was lapping it all up, how determinedly and recklessly he went after everything he could draw out of Maedhros.

Still - six days now, and Maedhros would be damned if he didn't use this infatuation Mairon clearly had with him for _at least_ getting proper and more regular meals out of this.

Time for a new tactic.

“Come here.”

Of course Mairon was quick to respond to that and this time, he didn’t even seem to bother suppressing the satisfied smile when Maedhros’ gaze flicked down to Mairon’s sweatpants that seemed a number too big for his slender frame and were hanging dangerously low on his hips. 

“Your coffee will get cold,” he muttered, but nevertheless reached out to put his hands on Maedhros’ backside, squeezing lightly through the fabric of his boxer briefs.

“I wouldn’t worry about the coffee if I were you.” Maedhros kept his gaze firmly on Mairon’s as he reached out as well, one hand wrapping around a mug, the other sliding down the back of Mairon's sweatpants where he found naked skin. He huffed softly and took a first sip. “No surprise you listened to _that_ part.”

Mairon smirked at him, pressing himself closer to Maedhros so that he could feel that the blonde was hard under his sweatpants. “You were rather specific on _that_ part. You were not specific about what you wanted for breakfast, so I went with my preference.”

Maedhros snorted softly into his coffee, digging his fingertips into the naked flesh. He took another slow sip, calmly studying Mairon’s beautiful face, green eyes gleaming with eagerness.

“Right, then. Let me get _specific_.”

***

“Fuck Mae… you’re such a mean… _bastard_!” Mairon was panting heavily while glaring at Maedhros over his shoulder, his eyes dark with a mixture of lust and anger. The blond strands of his hair were plastered to his sweaty forehead, his pale cheeks flushed with arousal. Maedhros was fully enjoying every minute of this.

He raised his eyebrows at Mairon, aiming for that same innocent but feigned surprise the boy gave him often enough.

“Am I really?” He hummed thoughtfully, gently teasing his fingertips over the slicked muscle before sliding two fingers into him. There was no resistance now, of course - not when he had already been inside him only moments ago. “This feels good though, doesn’t it? Or is it not enough now?”

Mairon growled, letting his head fall back down to the bed. He had been on the brink of orgasm when Maedhros had deliberately pulled out, and oh, how he had enjoyed the utter bewilderment on Mairon's face that had turned into frustration pretty quickly. “You know damn well it’s not,” Mairon hissed now, the words muffled by the sheets.

Maedhros smirked to himself, deeply thrusting his fingers into Mairon again. “Poor boy.” He brushed his free hand over the small of Mairon's back and bent down to bite gently into his shoulder. “Let's try again, shall we?” And he reached around to wrap his fingers around Mairon's cock, finding a rhythm to stroke him in time with the thrusts of his hand.

It was a matter of seconds before Maedhros had him gasping and moaning again, arching his back and pushing against him frantically, obviously eager to pick up where he had been interrupted so suddenly before. But Maedhros kept his rhythm slow, ignoring the one Mairon was trying to get him to follow with the way he moved back against him. Instead he let himself be distracted, his hand wandering up to play with the head of Mairon’s cock, deliberately messing up his own rhythm. He was met with a frustrated groan and a scowl when Mairon turned his head again.

“You’re… I fucking hate you, you know.”

“Of course you do,” Maedhros said mildly, propped himself up on one hand and leaned forward for an unhurried kiss, his other hand slowing down to a stop. “Let’s see how you’ll do with another finger, hm?” he proposed, his ring finger already teasing the muscle stretched around the other two.

“If that means you’ll _finally_ let me come,” Mairon growled, but it turned into a long moan rather quickly when Maedhros withdrew his hand just to slowly push into him with all three fingers at once.

“Oh, _fuck_ …”

The three fingertips went in easily, but towards the second row of knuckles, the resistance was back and Maedhros slowed down, letting his fingers slide back and then forth again in a gentle stretch.

“Good… yes, just like this, that’s beautiful. Feels nice, hm?”

Mairon's answer was some unintelligible mix of moaning and cursing that Maedhros counted as approval. Giving the way the boy squirmed on the bed, he was probably not wrong about it. And it wasn’t like it left Maedhros unaffected - far from it. Seeing Mairon like this was more than enough to keep him hard and aching to get back inside him.

But to make his point was more important right now. So Maedhros bit back the urge and just glanced down, holding his hand still so he could watch how Mairon moved on his own. He didn’t even seem to have enough breath to stop and complain about the lack of attention, rocking himself back onto his fingers, so eager for more.

Holding back a groan, Maedhros bit down on his lip and withdrew his hand completely, which was met with a low, frustrated whine from his young lover.

“Oh come on…”

“Yeah… sucks not to get what you asked for,” Maedhros said, sympathetically patting Mairon’s lower back.

“You’re _so_ mean.”

Now, finally, Maedhros had to laugh, a quiet but genuine and utterly amused sound. He wrapped his arm around Mairon’s waist and pulled the young man with him as he turned and sat back against the headboard, grinning against Mairon’s shoulder as he settled him chest-to-back in his lap.

“Maybe this is the only way you learn,” he suggested and nuzzled against the curve of his neck. Noticing that Mairon’s hand was reaching for his own cock, he snatched it, entwining their fingers and trapping Mairon’s arms underneath his as he wrapped it around him. He was met with another, utterly frustrated groan but ignored it, just like he ignored the way Mairon shifted on top of him.

“Now, let’s set another ground rule. Two _proper_ meals a day for me, and you’ll get your orgasms back. Does that sound acceptable to you?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Mairon groaned somewhat unfocussed, grinding himself ineffectively in his lap. “Stars, Mae, can you just -”

“Stop squirming and focus.” Maedhros tightened his hold on Mairon, giving his voice the same sharp edge he used at work whenever he needed someone to know that he was being damn serious. “Repeat what I want from you.”

“Food. Two times a day. I get it.” The look in the green eyes was close to desperate now. “Mae, _please._ ”

A quiet shiver of arousal went through Maedhros’ whole body. Finally letting go of Mairon’s hands, he reached down and shifted them both until he was able to guide himself back into Mairon, the lithe body on top of him easily accommodating him again.

“Thank you. Now…”

The moan that Mairon let out was definitely at a critical level, but he seemed too far gone to care. Fiercely, he started to move, pushing himself further down before Maedhros could even finish his sentence, and he couldn’t find it in himself to mind. Mairon obviously sensed that Maedhros was finally satisfied with the point he had made, so now it seemed like all bets were off. Quickly, Maedhros reached up to clasp his hand over Mairon’s mouth, the other going around him to wrap around his cock again, and then simply let him move in that frantic pace desperate for release, alternating between pushing down on Maedhros and bucking up into his hand.

Neither of them lasted longer than a minute. Tensing up so deliciously around him, Marion pulled Maedhros right with him, shuddering and bucking hard, coming into his hand with a deep, relieved sigh. Maedhros kept grinding his hips up against him until he, too, was spent, a beautiful tremor of satisfaction settling in his limbs. Finally, Mairon relaxed around him, too, and let himself slump against Maedhros’ chest, his eyes closed and his breathing heavy in the settling quiet.

Maedhros’ arm sank across the boy’s middle, all his muscles relaxing as he rested against the headboard, slowly coming down along with his lover. Once he had recovered his breathing, thumb idly brushing over Mairon’s stomach, he pressed a brief kiss to his shoulder.

“How are you doing?”

“Mmh. Good,” Mairon muttered, barely audible. Shifting a little, he turned his head so that it was resting comfortably against Maedhros’ shoulder, an uncharacteristically intimate gesture for him. But only a moment later he seemed to sober, lifting up his head and giving Maedhros his typical smirk.

“Say… do I end up getting this kind of orgasm any time I manage to fail your expectation?”

“Next time you won't get _any_ kind of orgasm,” Maedhros shot back, his hand going to Mairon's side to give him a good pinch.

“Ouch,” Mairon complained playfully. “You’re such a sadist. Maybe next time, I’ll just stay in bed and be satisfied with my hand then.”

“Only half as satisfied as you would be here though,” Maedhros smirked, and by the huff he received in reply, he knew he was right.

***

“ _Slow._ ”

It wasn’t the first time he told him, but Mairon did make the effort of heeding his word, biting down on his lower lip around a soft moan as the hand stroking around his own cock slowed down.

“Yes. Take your time.”

Maedhros rounded him unhurriedly, letting his gaze slide over the flush on Mairon’s cheeks, his exposed stomach, the slender fingers giving himself measured strokes. Following an urge, he reached out to brush his fingertips along the curve of Mairon’s neck, enjoying the way the boy’s head was immediately tipped up in an invitation to touch more.

“I’d put my mouth right there,” Maedhros mused, caressing that bare spot thoughtfully. “What would you prefer? Bite mark? Love bite?”

“Mhhmm… bite mark,” Mairon sighed. His eyes were slowly flickering shut and Maedhros could see how much he enjoyed every moment of this new game. “No… wait. Could I have both?”

“You certainly could, if you're this good about asking for it,” Maedhros smiled in amusement, letting his thumb flicker over Mairon's pulse point. “High up on your neck, so everyone could stare at you. Would you like that?”

He could feel the boy swallow drily, yet he stayed perfectly still aside from the movement of his hand. “Why, would _you_?” Mairon asked, watching him from half-closed eyes that were dark with arousal.

Maedhros clicked his tongue and crossed his arms over his chest, continuing to round Mairon with unhurried steps. “Answering a question with one of your own, really now? I thought you were doing better than that.”

It was obvious that Mairon _would_ love it, just as Maedhros knew how much he'd enjoy knowing the young man sported a mark like that and was proud to show it off. But for Maedhros to admit that wasn't part of their game right now, as impossible as it was in reality.

Mairon licked his lips. “Fine. _Maybe_ I'd like a mark. But more so if I knew you could see it too, and that you'd be getting all hard, knowing that you were the one that gave it to me.”

“Maybe, huh?” Maedhros couldn’t help smirking to himself. He stopped behind Mairon to murmur right into his ear, lips brushing its shell. “You _bet_ I’d look for it. And that it would give me such pleasure to see it on you. To remember what you sounded like when I gave it to you, to know that you’d touch it sometimes just to remember it too. But not just there.” Maedhros reached between Mairon’s naked thighs with his hand, brushing his thumb over the sensitive insides. “Here. I’d give you one on each side, and look forward to discovering how they’d have changed the next time I’d get you naked.”

Mairon did not comment on that. But after having spent almost two weeks together now, Maedhros had long figured him out well enough to know how turned on he was, by the way he shuffled slightly to open his legs a little more at Maedhros’ touch, how his breath quickened at his words just like the strokes of his hand around his own cock.

Stars, and Maedhros was enjoying himself more than he ought to, all circumstances considered - at least whenever Mairon made his two trips a day down here and Maedhros wasn't left to his own mind and the nagging questions of what was going to happen.

“You're not coming yet,” he reminded Mairon, sliding his hand over the soft, firm curve of his ass. “Not as long as I haven't told you all about what I'd do with you to find out just how loud you could really get.”

Turning his head with a slightly impatient groan, Mairon gave him a quizzical look. “Wow. I wasn’t aware that story would turn out to be a fucking _novel._ ”

Maedhros suppressed a laugh and reached up to thread his fingers into the blond hair, giving the strands a good tug.

“Careful, you little brat. Or I just might have to put you over my knee. Oh… no, _wait_.” The tone in his voice was full of utterly false remembrance, and he gave Mairon a look. “I almost forgot. That's exactly what you want.”

The response was a look of equally false, wide-eyed indignation. “Now what makes you think _that?_ ”

Maedhros made an effort of suppressing the way the corners of his mouth wanted to twitch. “I really shouldn’t be rewarding you for this. But I suppose you worked _really hard_ for that one.” He raised his eyebrows at Mairon and, very deliberately, gave his backside a sharp smack. Gasping, Mairon’s eyes were bright with obvious excitement. He had just opened his mouth to what Maedhros was sure would be some kind of sassy response that might get him another smack, when all of a sudden, a muffled, creaking sound came from outside. And then, heavy steps were heading down the stairs. Mairon only stared at Maedhros, the look of arousal instantly changing to that of the proverbial deer in the headlights. 

“Fuck…”

For just a moment, Maedhros’ heart skipped a beat in sudden fear. Yet he acted instinctively, immediately, slapping Mairon’s hand away and pulling his jeans back up again, fingers only a little unsteady as he started adjusting Mairon in his pants and hissed, “Pull yourself together!”

Hastily, Mairon reached for his sweater that had landed under the table, slipping into it just as someone knocked on the door. “Mairon?” The door handle moved, yet fortunately, Mairon had made a habit out of locking the door from the inside.

“Mhm… yeah?” Mairon answered, adjusting the zipper in record time while Maedhros moved to sit at the table, trying to calm his racing heart. “What’s up?”

“There’s a phone call for you. Why the fuck did you lock the door?” 

“Wait a second, I’m coming.” Mairon called, running a hand through his hair and heading for the door - not without throwing another glance at Maedhros - and damn, the boy actually had the nerve to give him a broad grin. In disbelief, Maedhros watched as he unlocked and opened the door, coming face to face with a dark-haired and broad-shouldered man that was half a head taller than Mairon and looked rather unamused as he glanced from the young man to Maedhros and back. Still, he held out the phone in his hand.

“Boss calling.”

“Okay, thanks, Boldog,” Mairon said casually, snatching the phone from his hand. The man only looked at him, eyebrows raised, again looking over at Maedhros at the table. 

“I got this,” Mairon said emphatically, raising the phone to his ear. “Hey.”

The look on the man’s face turned utterly incredulous, and it looked like he might actually protest. But it was clear that he really didn’t want to interrupt Mairon’s conversation with Melkor, so he only hovered for a long moment, directing a dark look at Maedhros instead.

Maedhros leaned back on his chair, arms crossed over his chest, and raised his eyebrows.

He honestly couldn’t blame the guy.

“Mhmhm. Did you not get my text?” Mairon asked, turning around and walking back into the room, unwillingly gesturing at Boldog to leave, who looked reluctant and not exactly willing to follow the demand. Yet, after a long moment, he did, pulling the door shut behind him, and Maedhros could hear the stairs creaking again as he went back upstairs.

He breathed out a soft sigh of relief and turned his gaze to Mairon instead - admittedly no less incredulous than Boldog, though he took care to hide the feeling.

Mairon smirked in his direction, then continued to listened to whatever was being said on the other end of the line.

“I can’t really tell you more. What -” Apparently, he was being interrupted, at least by the way he fell quiet and rolled his eyes in an obviously bored gesture.

Maedhros wished he could hear what was being said on the other end of the line, but even though he could hear the hints of a voice while Mairon was quiet, there was no chance for him to hear what Melkor was saying. Had anything happened? Or was he just checking in if Mairon had made any progress in questioning him?

“Well, I - what? Of _course_ I am upstairs,” Mairon replied a little irritated. “How irresponsible do you think I am?” Grinning, he strolled closer back to the table, never taking his eyes off Maedhros.

“I told you. He doesn’t know the password… Yes, he’s trying to be helpful.” Gracefully, he pushed himself up onto the edge of the table. There was some reckless, challenging gleam in his eyes as he looked at Maedhros, an alarming one that he knew too well by now. In a casual motion, Mairon reached out, absent-mindedly tracing the line of Maedhros’ jaw with his fingers.

“What? No… no, I don’t think so. He’s very cooperative.”

Maedhros could still feel his heart hammering in his chest. He barely allowed himself to move, not wanting to risk making any sound, and he didn't take his eyes off Mairon for a second. Only his head tipped up subtly into the small touch, out of… Maedhros wasn't even sure. Defiance, gratitude, thrill, acknowledgement, pride.

Whatever it was, it was ridiculous.

“Trying to be clever and convincing, I thought that’s what you -” Mairon said amiably, but with a clear hint of a taunt before he was apparently interrupted again. “Well what _else_ would you have me do?” His fingertips were travelling downwards along his neck and to the hem of Maedhros’ shirt, skilfully opening the button with one hand. “Yes, I fucking _know_ it’s been two weeks.”

Oh, if Melkor _knew_ just how Mairon had spent those two weeks trying to ‘convince’ Maedhros of giving up any information about the encryption…

It was that thought which finally towered over everything else, the apprehension that came with it, the stark reminder of his precarious position that had seemed to fade over time while no harm was being done. And it was enough to let Maedhros raise his hand and carefully wrap his fingers around Marion’s wrist, seeking his eyes to give a subtle shake of his head. Yet Mairon merely smiled at him, pulling their hands back until he could bow down his head and press his lips just below the first row of Maedhros' knuckles. It was a strange gesture, something between fondness, deference, and mockery.

“Well, I wouldn’t know, it wasn’t on the news,” he continued in a clearly sarcastic tone of voice. “It’s not like you kept me up to date about this. Or, you know, about _anything_ since you left me here and forgot about me.” He paused for a moment, anger flashing over his face. “ _No,_ this isn’t about the -“ His eyes flicked over to Maedhros and he apparently just stopped himself mid-sentence.

Maedhros already knew that there were things Mairon didn't tell him, things he had been unwilling to speak of. It wasn’t really surprising though, given their circumstances. So he didn’t react to it and didn’t even begin to guess, only regarded Mairon’s face attentively and slowly released the light hold on his wrist. The younger man used the opportunity to take hold of his fingers, circling his thumb around the joints and caressing them gently.

“Yeah, I’d appreciate that,” he said eventually more calmly. “Do you - What? Today?” He straightened, a sudden look of wariness in his eyes. “When -” He paused and then sighed in frustration, lowering the phone so that even Maedhros could hear the low tooting. 

Giving the young man a moment, Maedhros closed his fingers lightly around Mairon’s, now letting his own thumb brush over his palm. Finally, he raised his eyebrows at him.

“That sounded like he’s coming here.”

“He is,” Mairon confirmed with a huff, adding with a wry smile, “And just in case you didn’t get that part - he’s not exactly happy that there’s no progress with you father’s precious files.”

“Well, I can’t help him with that,” Maedhros replied, though there sure was apprehension that came with the thought. He was under no illusions as to how dangerous that man was, even if Mairon acted so nonchalantly about his… well… lover.

“Don’t worry,” Mairon replied lightly. “He only suspects what we are _not_ doing. I don’t think he suspects what we are _actually_ doing. Yet.” Smirking, he brought Maedhros’ fingers back to his lips, lightly nibbling on the tips in a teasing caress. “That was fucking close though… boy, did you see Boldog’s _face_?”

But this time, Maedhros couldn’t share Mairon’s amusement. He pulled his hand away and narrowed his eyes at him, suppressing a small shiver. “ _Yet_? Is this a joke to you?”

Mairon’s grin only grew wider. “Oh, come on. Fucking me is the most risky thing you could possibly do in here. Don’t tell me that you’re realizing that _now,_ you must’ve had me on every piece of furniture down here. Multiple times. I think I lost count, what about you?”

A sudden surge of anger rose in Maedhros, made him get to his feet and turn away from Mairon, arms crossing over his chest and his jaw clenching. Of course it aggravated him to hear just how little Mairon seemed to think about the pitfalls of what they were doing here, but he was angry with himself as well. Maybe he too was indeed sometimes losing sight of the dangers of his choices, getting lost in the pleasures and rising familiarity between him and Mairon. One of the main reasons for getting involved with him in the first place had been whatever possibility he had seen in maybe having some - _any_ \- chance of getting out of here again. That hadn’t changed, but…

When he glanced back at Mairon, he couldn’t stop his gaze from dropping to the phone still resting in his hand, and his heart thumped hard for a painful moment. If only he could get his hands on it, just for half a minute… But it would kill every bit of precarious, shaky trust that had settled between them and seemed more likely to fail than to succeed in the first place. So he dragged his eyes back up to Mairon’s.

“What do you think he’d do if he found out about that?”

“Hmmm, I don’t know,” Mairon said with a shrug, but his grin turned a little spiteful. “Maybe realize once and for all that I’m not one of his stupid thugs he can boss around.”

Eru help him.

Maedhros turned away again, his heart in his throat now with a cold fear that hadn’t quite been there before. He could only hope that Mairon talked a bigger game than he would ever be willing to actually play.

“I think you should go.”

For a moment, Mairon was silent and Maedhros could merely guess from the soft noises that he had finally decided to come down from the table after all.

“Mae.”

Mairon’s voice was a little softer than before, and Maedhros took a slow, deep breath, turning back towards Mairon again only after he had let it out. The younger man gave him a small, reassuring smile.

“Don’t freak out. I got this.”

For a long moment, Maedhros simply looked at him. The words didn’t really reassure him, yet he had no choice but to believe him. So eventually, he gave Mairon a small nod and said, “Okay.”

For a moment, it seemed as if Mairon wanted to say something, but then merely turned towards the door before hesitating again. And eventually, to Maedhros’ utter surprise, he crossed the distance between them with a couple of steps, his fingers closing around his hand, his forehead pressing against his shoulder in a short, affectionate gesture.

Maedhros’ hand came up entirely on instinct, resting just as briefly on the nape of Mairon's neck. Maybe not in comfort, for he didn't have much of that to give in that moment, but in quiet reassurance.

“I’m coming back later,” Mairon muttered before he finally left. The door fell shut with a low thud, the familiar sound of the key turning in the lock seeming strangely pronounced today and filling Maedhros with a vague feeling of dread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No idea why this storyline deals with food in such an excessive way... We don't have a food obsession, promise!
> 
> Anyway, as always we're dying to hear what you think about the unfolding events! And for those of you who were asking about Melkor - the next chapter will indeed see him return, so stay tuned until then!


	5. Cracks in the Foundation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melkor's return gives both Mairon and Maedhros a harsh awakening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are - as we all knew it would happen, things are getting darker. So for your own safety and our collective happiness, please heed the tags from here on out.

Hours passed. It never became easier, to fill the time he spent alone down here, with nothing to occupy himself with except for himself. But now it seemed harder than ever, with the knowledge of his captor present somewhere upstairs.

Maedhros tried not to think about it. But the sour feeling stayed in his gut no matter which way he attempted to turn his thoughts instead.

_I got this._

He could only pray that Mairon was right.

Finally, the sounds of footsteps creaked lightly on the stairs outside, sending a cold shiver down his spine and letting him get to his feet. Because by now, he knew the sound of Mairon's steps - and those were not his. Worse, it was more than one person.

The door flung open and in came Melkor, followed by a giant of a man clad in a biker’s outfit. Crossing his arms, Melkor examined him, his dark eyes cold.

“Well, if it’s not the tabloid’s darling in the flesh. Do sit down, Maedhros, this will only take a minute of your precious time.”

Without waiting whether Maedhros would follow his request or not, he nodded to the giant man behind him who rounded the table, grabbed Maedhros by the shoulders and pushed him down onto one of the chairs with ease.

He tried to ignore the racing of his heart, the dryness of his mouth, the tension in his muscles. Keeping his expression as even as possible, Maedhros stared back at Melkor, consciously summoning his anger to push away his apprehension.

“Good… a minute is really all I've got to spare.”

He had not seen Melkor in quite some time, but the distinguished, middle-aged man had changed since their last encounter. His dark eyes lay deeper in his skull with an unruly flicker to them, he had aged visibly and his formerly perfectly styled hair seemed ruffled and unkempt. However, he seemed unphased by Maedhros’ taunt.

“Excellent. Then keep your sharp tongue to yourself, shut up and listen.” He looked at him with a piercing gaze. “Let me cut to the chase: Mairon says you don’t know anything about your father’s encryption. I don’t believe you. I know your father, and he’s a too paranoid bastard that he would encrypt his greatest invention and keep the way to decrypt it only to himself, so that his precious Silmarils would be lost in case anything happened to him. You’re his poster child, the responsible one, the eldest Fëanorian dutifully following in his footsteps. You know _something._ ”

Despite the circumstances, despite those dark eyes boring into him and the huge man's threatening presence at his back, a soft, derisive huff escaped Maedhros.

“Clearly you don't know my father _that_ well,” he said, never letting his eyes flicker away from Melkor's. He wasn't going to say 'you picked the wrong one to kidnap’, even though that was true in terms of choosing the one most likely to know anything about the encryption, _or_ following in his father's footsteps. If any of them _knew_ , it was Curufin, but Maedhros would never put any of his brothers in that kind of danger by putting ideas in Melkor's mind.

Melkor smiled, but it only made him appear more dangerous than before. “I suppose we’ll find out. I’ll give you a couple more days to figure out how to be _actually helpful_ to Mairon with cracking that encryption. If there’s no progress until then, I’ll tighten your reins personally, and I promise, you will not like that at all. Have I made myself understood, boy wonder?”

A quiet, cold shiver ran down Maedhros’ spine, yet he never stopped glaring back at the older man, heart pounding in dread and anger. “You can promise whatever, it won't change that _I don't know_ how to crack that encryption.” _And you'll never get the Silmarils, not through me, not through my father, not ever._

“I suggest you think a little more about that. You have time, after all,” Melkor said, deceptively mild. Reaching out, he patted Maedhros’ cheek in a mocking gesture. “And it would really be a shame to mar such a pretty face.”

Violently pulling back from the touch, Maedhros turned his face away, though he knew better than to jump to his feet with the guy still standing right behind him. Bile rose in his throat along with a fresh wave of anger, and this time, he had nothing more to say to his kidnapper, blazing with helpless fury as he looked back at him. The corners of Melkor’s mouth twitched a little as he returned the gaze, unimpressed.

“Well, Gothmog, I suppose our minute is up. I’ll see you soon, Fëanorian.”

And with those words, he turned and left Maedhros’ makeshift cell. The huge man gave Maedhros a derogative glance before eventually following his boss and leaving him alone.

When Maedhros finally let out an unsteady breath, some of the tension left his body and he swallowed around a dry throat. He had to get out of here.

 _I hope they’re worth it_ , he heard Fingon's voice yet again in his mind, angry, hurt, bitter, and he let his head sink into his hands.

***

Mairon was sitting on the floor of his bedroom, his head resting against the doorframe. He listened to the sounds and voices below as well as the thumping of his own heart, way too fast and way too loud, his head spinning. Of course he knew, _he knew_ that the feeling of a cold hand clawing in his chest, the dryness of his mouth, the trembling of his hands were side effects of coming down from a cocaine rush, but it felt so much _worse_ than normal. Melkor’s words kept spinning in his head, keeping him riled up.

 _‘You think I put you here for a vacation? Your 'clever and convincing’ obviously isn't doing a damn -_ **_try something else_ ** _.’_

His hand was fingering for the bag of cocaine in his pocket. Fuck, he wanted, _needed_ another line, but not yet. He knew Melkor had been to the basement and he first had to see whether Maedhros was all right. Had to see _him_. 

So the moment he heard the front door fall shut, Mairon was up on his feet, fighting the sudden feeling of vertigo that almost brought him back down to the floor. Forcing himself to act halfway calm, he headed back down the stairs to find whoever could unlock the upper basement door for him.

“Already on your way back down again?” The mocking voice came from the entrance to the kitchen, Boldog watching him out of those pale eyes of his.

“Yep,” Mairon replied as casually as possible, deliberately ignoring the tone of his voice. “Still work to do. You still have the key, don’t you?”

“Sure do,” the other man replied but made no move towards the cellar door, just ran his gaze up and down Mairon. The young man’s eyes narrowed, although his heart seemed to beat even faster now, a dull feeling of panic constricting his chest and making it hard to breathe.

“Then would you be so _very_ kind?” 

Boldog didn't answer but pushed himself away from the doorframe, crossing the distance between them without any hurry. Instead of getting out the keys, he reached out and started patting down the back pockets of Mairon's jeans, who instinctively took a step back just to find himself colliding with the wall behind him.

“Boldog, what the fuck,” he hissed, but was only met with an unimpressed shrug.

“Just making sure you've got nothing on you,” Boldog said, though there was something calculating in his eyes.

Mairon raised his chin just slightly, trying to make his voice sound as cold and arrogant as possible. “Interesting. I don’t recall your boss telling you to body search _me_.”

“You wouldn't, I suppose,” Boldog shrugged again, this time a smirk crossing his face just as he turned to unlock the upper cellar door. “Boss kept you busy enough by the looks of it.”

“Mind your own fucking business,” Mairon snapped, pushing his way past him and through the door. He was already halfway down the stairs when he reached into his pocket for the key to Maedhros’ room but found it empty. Of course, Melkor had taken the key when he had announced he was going to see Maedhros himself.

_Fuck._

Cursing under his breath, Mairon had no choice but to go back, already seeing Boldog's smirk from halfway down the stairs as he wordlessly held up the key for him. Mairon snatched it out of his hand, glaring at Boldog without dignifying him with a response. This change in behavior of Melkor’s thugs was certainly not good - yet he had other, more pressing concerns right now.

_‘Maybe I can do something about that pretty face so you'll stop being distracted by it.’_

When he finally put the key into the door to Maedhros’ room, Mairon’s hands were trembling so hard that he had to try several times before the door eventually unlocked with a click and he could enter.

Maedhros raised his head to look up from where he was sitting at the table, appearing somewhat… drained, Mairon thought as he took him in. Yet there was a hint of relief in those grey eyes that met his, but not enough to overshadow the concern lingering there.

The door fell shut behind him and Mairon knew he should probably say something. Yet his mind was completely blank and he couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t sound either petty, derisive, or completely pathetic to his own ears. Swallowing drily, he found that he couldn’t even meet the gaze of Maedhros’ inquisitive grey eyes. Mairon looked away and tried to calm his breathing, to fight the almost painful feeling of cold panic rising in his chest, but with little effect. 

_Please just… tell me to do something._ **_Anything._ **

And Maedhros did.

“Come here,” he said, his voice calm and even, and got to his feet, never taking his eyes off Mairon who crossed the distance between them faster than he probably ever had before. Maedhros reached for his hand, fingers wrapping lightly around his as he guided them upwards. “Put your hand here… yes, that's good,” he murmured, placing Mairon's palm right in the center of his chest where he could feel it expand with every slow, even breath. Digging his fingers lightly into the shirt, Mairon could feel the warmth of his body through the fabric. The sensation as well as Maedhros’ calming presence finally managed to slow his own breaths, matching them to Maedhros', filling him with a sense of relief and eventually easing the cold panic in his chest a little. 

“You’re alright,” he muttered, leaning lightly against Maedhros and allowing himself just for a moment that feeling of safety, as deceptive as it might be. Damn, he needed this so badly right now. Needed _him._

“I’m alright,” Maedhros murmured quietly and wrapped his free arm around Mairon’s shoulders to draw him into a hug. Hand still pressed between their chests, Mairon could feel the faint, reassuring thud of his heart under his palm and it seemed to lower the tension in his body to a more bearable degree.

With a sigh, he rested his head against Maedhros' shoulder. This was _easy,_ and there was a strange comfort in falling into the by now familiar pattern of just having Maedhros take the lead on everything. Especially now that everything else that he thought familiar kept falling apart around him.

For a while that seemed incredibly long and timeless at once, they stayed there in silence. But eventually, Mairon heard Maedhros’ voice, a quiet question next to his ear.

“What happened?”

What happened indeed. Mairon wasn't even sure himself, only that he was in more trouble than he had thought. Sobering, he took a deep breath, retreating from their embrace.

“I thought they might've hurt you.” It was the first thing that came to mind, and it was true. When they had been done and Melkor had announced, almost casually but with that dangerous gleam in his dark eyes, that he would pay a visit to their guest himself, Mairon had feared the worst.

“No, they haven't.” Maedhros dragged a hand through his hair and sat down on the edge of the bed, still looking weary but not as drained as he had before. “He just threatened that they would, if I didn't help you with that encryption. Apparently he's very convinced that I do know _something_.”

“So? Do you?” Mairon couldn’t help asking. He had not even mentioned the encryption or the password in the previous two weeks, as he didn’t want Maedhros to think that he was indeed trying to get anything out of him using sex. Yet Mairon could not deny that he had sometimes wondered whether it was true what he had insisted upon over and over towards Melkor: that Maedhros had no idea what the password was and that he could not help him crack the encryption in any way.

Maedhros met his inquisitive gaze with a sigh, settling himself with his back against the wall on the bed. “Mairon, even if I knew _anything_ at all, I would not tell you.”

Mairon looked at him in disbelief. “Because you don't think he's serious?”

“No, I know he's serious.” The reply came without hesitation, Maedhros’ voice calm but with a hard edge Mairon hadn't quite heard before. He watched him unwaveringly, a stark contrast to the way he was leaned back almost casually against the wall. “Has he ever told you why he wants the Silmarils so badly?”

_"Oh Stars, Silmarils, always those fucking Silmarils,” Mairon snapped, rolling his eyes at Melkor who stared back at him with an eerie calm._

_"Oh Mairon, you need to start learning how to play the long game."_

_Mairon glared at him. "So what the fuck do you want me to do?"_

_"_ **_Try harder_ ** _. Until then -" Melkor returned cooly, reached out and hooked his fingers into Mairon’s belt. "What you apparently do best."_

Mairon took a deep breath, trying to shake his anger and the slight feeling of anxious nausea. It got worse when he was standing still for a longer time and so he uncomfortably shifted from one foot to the other, eventually leaning against the table and drumming his fingers on the surface in a nervous rhythm.

“Because they're a new revolutionary medical device and whoever knows how to build them will make a fortune?”

“That's certainly one reason.” Maedhros took hold of the blanket, folded it back and patted the space on the mattress next to him in silent invitation. “They're small enough to move through the bloodstream and can be programmed for specific tasks, like curing leukemia or preventing metastases from spreading.”

Without hesitating, Mairon followed his invitation, pulling one of his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around it so he could rest his chin on top of it as he listened to Maedhros. 

“But if someone with ill intentions got their hands on them, they could also be programmed to wreak havoc on someone's system. Essentially, you'd have a very clean way of eliminating whoever you set as your target.”

Mairon's eyes widened at Maedhros’ words. He had in fact never thought about that.

“So that's what your father thinks why Melkor wants the Silmarils?”

Maedhros hummed, their shoulders brushing now that they were settled right next to each other. “You know, my father and Melkor almost worked together once. Around twenty years ago, I think. But… Let's say my father turned him away rather harshly in the end though that was, one might argue, entirely justified.”

Mairon hadn’t known that either, yet he did his best not to look surprised but instead gave Maedhros a quizzical look.

“Well, _obviously_ that’s the kind of story your father would have told, right?”

For the first time since coming down here, Mairon could see a hint of the corners of Maedhros’ mouth twitching. “Obviously. But even if I don't really trust him to give impartial accounts, my mum is a very fair and open-minded observer. Since I heard it from her, I'm inclined to trust the assessment.”

“Even if that’s true, none of what you’re telling me is anything but speculation that Melkor wants to create some kind of biological weapon,” Mairon huffed. “He certainly never told _me_ anything about anything like that.” Even though, he had to admit to himself, this probably meant nothing - which Maedhros seemed to agree with.

“That’s good to hear and all, but why _would_ he tell you that?” Maedhros raised his eyebrows at him, obviously not convinced in the slightest.

Yes, why would he? In the past, Mairon had taken pride in thinking that Melkor would trust him and confide in him, feeling flattered and important whenever his lover has asked for his help or praised his programming skills. Yet now Mairon had to admit that there were apparently many things he didn’t know about Melkor’s plans and operations. Including very basic things like what he had been up to or where he had been in the past two weeks. 

He didn't know if Maedhros could see his disquiet as he contemplated this. But either way, he didn't press for an answer, maybe sure enough that he had made his point. Instead, he said something else.

“I’ve been wondering. Do your parents know you're… alive?”

For a moment, Mairon just stared at him, the words bringing back the uncomfortable feeling of tightness in his chest as well as a slight feeling of nausea.

“My… Why _the fuck_ would you even care?”

Maedhros ran a hand over his face and then leaned his head back against the wall. “Why would I not?”

“Because it’s an odd thing to ask someone you’ve been fucking for two weeks,” Mairon gave back irritatedly. “I feel you’re mistaking me for one of your flock of countless brothers now, and that’s just fucking awkward.”

There was a soft, somewhat choked sound from Maedhros that Mairon couldn't entirely identify. “You know, traditionally, fucking someone more than a handful of times and being interested in their lives aren't opposing concepts.”

Mairon clenched his teeth. “Oh. I wasn’t aware we were boyfriends now. My mistake.”

This time, it was definitely a laugh, but a quiet one entirely devoid of humor. “If I wanted you to be my boyfriend, you'd know it. That doesn't mean I'm indifferent, but I won't ask again, so you can relax.”

Mairon sighed and let himself fall backwards on the sheets, not looking at Maedhros, although he could still feel his gaze trained on him. 

“I haven’t talked to them in quite a while,” he finally said reluctantly. How long had it been? A year? More than that? He wasn’t even quite sure himself. But thinking about what his parents would think or have to say about the situation he had gotten himself into… No, he couldn’t go there. Not _now._

Maedhros was watching him silently, but since Mairon wasn't directly looking at him, he couldn't even try reading whatever might be gained from his expression. Finally, the older man stretched out one leg and let it dangle off the bed.

“I don't suppose they approve of your boyfriend, huh?”

“Guess not,” Mairon replied as coldly and unconcernedly as it was possible, still not looking at Maedhros. It was not like he had ever precisely told his parents who he was with, certainly not during the months where he had constantly snuck out of his parents' house or made up excuses to spend time with his lover. He would have left home at that time, yet Melkor had wanted him to wait until he came of age, not eager for a search to be started for an underage runaway. So on the day of his eighteenth birthday, Mairon had dropped the bombshell that he had been seeing someone for the last few months and that he would move out to be with him and never return. He still remembered the last time he had seen seen his parents, his mother yelling at him, the stony look on his father’s face as he had stormed out the door and slammed it behind himself. Mairon had buried that memory carefully, hadn’t even thought about it in a long time, but now that Maedhros brought it up, it felt surprisingly hurtful.

It was quiet for a moment, both of them unmoving on the bed until Maedhros spoke up again. “He wasn't happy with you, was he.”

“No shit,” Mairon replied sarcastically, and this time, he could physically feel the look Maedhros gave him.

“Why are you still with him?”

With a groan, Mairon sat back up, giving Maedhros an annoyed glare. “Does he seem like the type of guy to you that you can just break up with?”

Maedhros looked at him for a long moment, arms crossed over his chest. “Have you thought about it yet that you're having a chance right now?”

“Do I,” Mairon said, mirroring his motion. “What makes you think that?”

“The fact that you wouldn't have to do it without help.” Those grey eyes were studying him calmly but intently. “I bet the thought of having him and all his thugs on your heels is pretty scary, but even if he's a dangerous guy with a large network, he's neither almighty nor invincible.”

Mairon merely commented this statement with a huff and a disbelieving look, but Maedhros met his gaze unwaveringly, letting the words hang between them.

“You're talking about me selling him out,” Mairon said eventually. “All for my well-being of course. You don't have any stakes in that.” He snorted. “What kind of idiot do _you_ think I am?”

_"You're proving yourself one right now. He is Fëanor's son, and you're being fooled by a pretty face if you still think he isn’t playing with you."_

_"Fuck, who's been talking to him for two weeks, you or me?” Mairon exploded, not able to hold back anymore. “You haven't even bothered setting a fucking foot in this house again. And now you're showing up, telling me what I've been doing wrong all the time?”_

_“And do you have anything to show for it? Anything at all? For all that you’ve always claimed that you’re_ **_so fucking clever_ ** _.”_

Even the reminder of Melkor’s words stung.

Maedhros let out a soft huff, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“No, let me get this straight for you: I have _every_ stake in this, and I would never tell you I don't. Because you might be prone to reckless and impulsive decisions, but you're everything but an idiot. Yes, I'm asking you to sell him out because I'm sorry to tell you this, but he's dangerous and belongs behind bars. Yes, I'm asking you for your own good but also for mine because I value my life, my health and my freedom, and I'm asking for _a lot of people_ he is and still will be hurting.”

And Mairon believed him. Worse, in a way he knew he was right about this. But the mere thought of turning against Melkor made him freeze inside. He had seen what had happened to others who tried, after all. 

“Great suggestion. Especially from someone who’s all locked up and has nothing to lose,” he thus scoffed. “Sorry to disappoint, Mr. Starry-Eyed Idealist, but find some other sidekick to save the world with.”

He could see something flickering briefly over Maedhros’ face, but contrary to what he had instinctively expected, the older man didn’t say anything right away. After a few long moments, Maedhros sighed, leaned forward and grasped both his forearms.

“Listen -”

As always, Maedhros’ touch was firm but not hard. But even the light touch on his left arm was sufficient to make Mairon wince. He tried to bite his tongue, but couldn’t help the small, pained sound that escaped him.

The grip on his arm vanished right away, Maedhros looking at him with startled eyes before something hard and angry entered into them. Yet, his voice wasn’t louder when he said, “Show me that.”

Mairon sighed, exasperated, but felt he couldn’t meet the gaze of the silver-grey eyes. “Mae, it’s nothing, just -”

“Please show me, Mairon.”

Despite the polite words, their tone was uncompromising in a way Mairon had gotten to know well over the past two weeks and that he was certainly not in the mood to challenge right now. With a shrug, he opened the zipper of his sweater and took it off without further ado. 

He didn’t look down to what would doubtlessly be an angry red bruise by now. He had inspected that one under the shower half an hour ago, a feeling of cold, impotent rage uncurling in his stomach.

_“Do you want to know who knows how to decrypt the files?” Mairon hissed. “Fëanor does! So why don't you go and bother him?” And he couldn’t help adding derisively, “But it seems you weren't that convincing either, right?"_

_Melkor’s eyes were dark with rage when his hand shot forward and clasped around Mairon’s arm in a forceful, painful grip._

_‘Grow the fuck up, you spoiled child!’_

_“I’m not a -” Mairon yelled, trying to pull back. But Melkor didn’t let go, his grasp so strong that it sent a flare of pain through Mairon’s arm, making him wince. “Damn, Melkor, you’re fucking hurting me!”_

_“About time you realized that we’re not playing a game.”_

Instead of looking down, Mairon had his eyes trained on Maedhros’ face, convinced that if he saw the slightest trace of either pity or derision there, he would just get up and leave.

There was neither, but a quiet, intense yet wordless sort of anger that burned in his grey eyes. Yet his fingers were gentle as he grasped Mairon’s arm under the bruise so he could have a closer look at it, silent for a few long moments.

“Does that happen often?” he finally wanted to know, his voice more neutral than Mairon would have expected.

He huffed slightly. “It was sort of a first.”

Melkor had been _rough_ before when they'd had sex, but that had been more of an exciting game than anything else. Maybe he was _inconsiderate_ sometimes. He had never physically _hurt_ him before. But of course Mairon knew that his lover was a dangerous man, who had not hesitated to hurt, or even kill others in the past. The thought might have even held some excitement for him once. But now he somehow couldn’t shake the thought anymore of what _else_ Melkor might be capable of doing to him.

The look that was briefly visible in Maedhros’ eyes could be relief, yet the anger didn’t leave him just yet. “Stars, I hate him,” he growled quietly, his fingers trailing down to linger around Mairon's wrist where his thumb brushed over the inside. “All this time I have to touch you with kid gloves to not even leave a fucking love bite and then _he_ comes along…”

There seemed to be a lump in Mairon's throat all of a sudden and, acting entirely on impulse, Mairon leaned forward to press his lips to Maedhros’, desperate, angry and pleading all at once. To his utter relief, it took the other man only the briefest of moments to react, almost immediately kissing him back with gentle urgency, his fingertips brushing along Mairon’s jaw. Moaning into the kiss, Mairon’s fingers found his hair, digging into the soft auburn strands not too gently. It didn’t feel enough, though, and so he shifted to settle himself in Maedhros’ lap, soaking in the feeling of the strong body pressing against his own, the familiar smell of soap and something that was uniquely him, the stubbles growing on his jaw scratching over his skin so delightfully.

“Fuck, Mae…” he muttered between two kisses. “I need you. I need you so fucking bad right now.”

He could feel a shudder going through Maedhros’ body, his arm slinging around Mairon’s waist and pulling him even closer. After another long, intense kiss, Maedhros pressed their foreheads together, still and silent for a moment before he drew back enough to look right into Mairon’s eyes, searching.

“That’s what you want?”

“Fuck, yes,” Mairon replied breathlessly and without thinking. Of course he _knew_ why Maedhros was hesitating, yet he couldn’t help that it made the feeling of anxiety, of insecurity return that had been pushed back by their passionate kiss. But maybe at least for that, there was an easy solution at hand. 

“Hey, I think I still have…” Mairon was fiddling with the pockets of his jeans, producing the little bag of cocaine that he had stuffed there before with a wry grin. “Right. Here. You want some?”

For a long moment, Maedhros just looked down at the bag in Mairon’s hand, and curiously, there was neither a lot of confusion nor shock playing out on his face. The first thing Mairon thought he could identify was a brief flash of weariness. Maedhros reached up, curled his fingers around Mairon’s that were clasped around the bag und looked up at him again.

“If we’re having sex, we're having it first. If you really have to, you can do coke after.” And before Mairon had the chance to say anything, Maedhros had tipped his head forward and was kissing him again, long and deep, only pausing to murmur against his lips, “I want to make you forget that he touched you at all. Prove again just how pathetic it is whatever he thinks he does with you. That’s another reason why you’re down here so often, right? Because you realized how _really fucking disappointing_ he is in bed…”

Mairon swallowed drily, not even trying to deny it. 

_‘You haven't bothered for two weeks with what I need. Do you really want to pretend to bother_ **_now_ ** _?’ he hissed furiously while Melkor unceremoniously dragged down his jeans, pushing him down on the bed with a cool smile._

 _‘Oh, Mairon. The world unfortunately doesn't revolve around_ **_your_ ** _needs_ **_every single day._ ** _So shut your mouth for once in your life.’_

And indeed he had not bothered with any of this, not at all. Not like Maedhros, who would go to lengths and take pride in making him moan and buck and whimper until he would finally come with his name on his lips. And what he would give for Maedhros to just make him forget about the previous hour…

“Please do,” Mairon whispered against his lips. “Just fuck me, Mae, please, I need you to…”

“I will.” A murmur against his lips, another deep kiss, hands wandering appreciatively over his sides, his hip, sliding under the back of his hoodie and into his jeans to rest on the curve of his ass. “You just relax, baby, you’ll be alright…”

The bag of cocaine ended up next to the bed, forgotten for the moment. “Baby, huh?” Mairon muttered, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly as he arched into Maedhros’ touch with pleasure. “Now this is what I call an upgrade from ‘brat’…”

“I’m sure ‘brat’ will make a return soon,” Maedhros smirked mildly into his mouth, reaching up to push the open zipper hoodie off the bed. With a grin, Mairon got to work on Maedhros’ shirt in turn, and they were back to kissing right away, even while undressing each other, blindly familiar with those steps by now, the shuffling and shifting of getting out of each other’s pants while unwilling to stop kissing for more than a moment at a time.

Once they were both naked, Maedhros immediately pulled Mairon back onto his lap, spreading his thighs around his hips while his lips sought Mairon’s neck. Impatiently, Mairon shifted and squirmed in his lap, having Maedhros groan softly with pleasure as their hips rubbed against each other. 

“I want you to stay up there.” Maedhros reached between bed and wall where they had stored lube and condoms squashed into the bed frame, his other hand taking its time trailing over Mairon’s chest. “Want to look at you, see as much of you as possible while I’m inside you… I really hope you’re feeling as sexy as you are.”

“Mhm… I still like hearing it when you tell me,” Mairon groaned, snatching the items out of his hands. It did not take long until he had him ready and Mairon enjoyed how Maedhros’ eyes never seemed to stray from him for a moment, how his hands rested on his hips in silent encouragement. Without further ado, Mairon shifted, lowering himself onto Maedhros’ cock with a long moan. His own was already painfully hard, something Melkor had not even managed to achieve this time. Not that he had cared, of course.

“Is this what you want to see?” Mairon muttered, spreading his thighs a little further to have Maedhros get in deeper. “How I take you in all the way, fuck myself on your cock? You like watching me do that, yeah?”

“You better believe I do,” Maedhros growled, his voice already rough with arousal. He leaned back on the bed and let his eyes trail all over Mairon, from his face over his chest and stomach down to where their bodies were joined, fingertips lightly digging into his hips as Mairon worked himself deeper. “Yes - fuck, that’s gorgeous,” he moaned, rolling his hips up into him as if he couldn’t help himself. “Come on, beautiful, move for me.”

Mairon bit his lip to keep himself from crying out loud in pleasure. “As you like.”

And so he did, settling into a hard and fast rhythm right from the beginning, taking Maedhros in as deep as he possibly could. He already knew he would feel sore the next morning, but that was okay - this was the good kind of sore, the one he could appreciate. And fuck, how he loved giving Maedhros a good show, biting his lip to choke down his moans, arching his back, his own hand teasingly running along his own cock once or twice. Seeing how Maedhros’ gaze never left him, how the grey eyes grew dark with arousal as he watched him intently… Mairon believed he could have come only from having Maedhros _look at_ him.

But he had way more than that. Maedhros’ hips meeting his in perfectly timed little thrusts, his hands wandering, giving his thighs a light squeeze, pinching his nipples just right, sending shivers down his spine with teasing touches along his neck. From time to time trailing into his lap as well, long, skilled fingers wrapping around his cock to stroke him in time with his own rhythm, always watching, always voicing his appreciation through quiet sounds of pleasure or encouraging little murmurs or curses. And so it didn’t take long until Mairon felt familiar tension building, the little moans and gasps becoming louder.

“Oh fuck… Mae, I’m gonna come…” he moaned, somehow remembering in last moment to add, “… may I?”

“Mmhh… come here,” Maedhros replied and reached up to place his hand on the nape of his neck, guiding him down so he could easily tip up his head and kiss him again, deep and hungry. As he did, his other arm wrapped around his waist and secured Mairon on top of him so that he could take up where Mairon now lacked the freedom to move, thrusting up into him with an increasingly fast pace. His voice sounded breathless and rough in Mairon’s ear, and so damn turned on. “Stars, Mairon - whenever you’re ready, you’re doing so well, really proud of you…”

And it was really the sound of his voice that eventually tipped him over the edge, his face buried in the crook of Maedhros’ neck, his hand buried in the auburn hair. And for a sweet, blissful moment he didn’t think about anything but riding out the wave of his orgasm, feeling Maedhros shudder underneath him. The small, continuous rolls of his hips up into Mairon as he rode out his own release only served to prolong Mairon’s, his muscles twitching a little as his sensitivity increased while his body settled into its blissful state of post-orgasmic relief.

Eventually, they were both still and silent, only their breaths audible in the room, and Mairon could hear the quieting thud of Maedhros’ heart under his ear. The arm was still slung firmly around him but the touch of the fingertips was light and idle as he traced slow patterns on his shoulder blade. For once, Mairon did not pull back and get up right away, leaden exhaustion and tiredness washing over him once his breath slowed down. He knew he had to get up eventually, but for the moment, he couldn’t bring himself to leave Maedhros’ arms, enjoying the feeling of comfort they gave him.

“Thank you,” he muttered softly, fighting to keep his eyes open. He could feel the soft press of a kiss to his hair, Maedhros reaching up to lightly rub the back of his neck.

“My pleasure,” he said quietly, free hand reaching down as he shifted only enough to carefully pull out of him but not move any more than that.

Mairon closed his eyes. The feeling of safety, of comfort might be no more than a fragile delusion, but for now this was real and it felt right. More real and right than anything else in the rubble that seemed to be his life right now. 

And he was just going to hold on to it for as long as he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're in real trouble, aren't they? Good thing they have each other...


	6. Power Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mairon messes up. Maedhros makes him own up to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anyone who might have been waiting for full on dom!Mae to make an appearance - here he is.

That night was the worst yet spent in captivity, maybe even worse than the very first one had been. The room seemed smaller than ever, the air stale and old, daylight as far away as a dream.

And he couldn't stop wondering if he was ever going to see it again.

Maedhros had never _ forgotten _ where he was, or why he was here, no matter how often he had allowed himself to be distracted by Mairon. He had needed that, or else he might have driven himself crazy in here days ago. And he did not regret starting this ridiculously risky affair with him, not when it had given him some much needed relief from his fears and was still his best chance of getting out of here. More than ever, now that he had finally brought it plainly on the table, and even knew that Mairon, deep down inside, did want out. The fact that he had initially reacted with scorn and ridicule didn't change anything about it, had not even surprised Maedhros.

He knew that what he asked of Mairon was a high risk for the young man, demanded of him to leave behind everything that he had or knew, and to do so despite his fears of the consequences. For a long time, Maedhros hadn't been certain, but now he knew that Mairon was indeed aware of just how dangerous Melkor was. So he hadn't expected Mairon to leap at the offer. All he had needed in that moment was for Mairon to know that the offer  _ existed _ , that he wouldn't have to do this hugely frightening thing all on his own.

Those damn drugs of his would only make it all harder. Maybe Maedhros should have realized it earlier - it all made sense now, in hindsight. The recklessness and risks, the confidence and eagerness. The way he had crashed when he had come down here the day before, the anxiety and later lethargy, to a point where Maedhros had needed to all but command Mairon to get back upstairs eventually, sure that if he hadn't, Mairon would have just stayed in his bed.

And of course he hadn't actually  _ wanted _ to send him back upstairs, even though Melkor had been long gone. Maedhros was still worried about him,  _ cared _ about him. How could he not? And more than that, all his hopes now rested on the fact that what he had told Mairon would continue to work in his mind, that his wish to get away would become greater with the simple offer of the  _ possibility _ , that he might want Maedhros to be safe, that he could even want to help put Melkor behind bars. Maedhros  _ knew _ that Mairon cared, much more than he often let on.

And if not… if not…

Stars, this was all so fucked up.

Who knew how much longer before Melkor truly lost his patience? Before he made good on his threats to Maedhros? It had been a little too easy sometimes, to just not think about it while the only one he ever saw down here was Mairon, and now Maedhros called himself a fool for it, even though, rationally, it would not have changed a damn thing. But now it just seemed all the harder.

And he missed Fingon more than ever too. Always did, of course, though that pain had started to dull a little over the past half year. But now - maybe with a clarity that came with the uncertainty of what was going to happen to him, if he would even have the chance to  _ ever _ see him again - that pain sprang up again, let him remember the fierceness of that fresh, open wound. And it dragged on through the long hours, making an already terrible night plain miserable, full of dark thoughts and some short bouts of fitful sleep, robbing him of any energy and will to get properly out of bed again.

It was easy to lose track of time down here as it was. If pressed for it, Maedhros would guess that it could be around late morning or noon when he heard Mairon’s light steps coming down the stairs, and soon after the door being unlocked.

“Hey - I have some lunch for you and you will be delighted that it might even satisfy your health obsession!” Mairon’s voice was cheerful and much more carefree than Maedhros felt like, prompting him to roll over and stare incredulously at him. Mairon grinned. “Don’t say you’re still asleep. It’s past noon!”

“Is it,” Maedhros said flatly, not making any attempt at getting out of bed. “I wouldn't know.”

“Come on, get up and have lunch with me,” Mairon said, putting the paper bag on the table, then looking over at the bed and Maedhros who was merely dressed in his underpants, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Mhmm, no. Let me rephrase this: Do you want me to join you over there?”

A sour feeling settled rapidly in the pit of Maedhros’ gut, fuelled by the terrible night and the dark thoughts that had not stopped chasing each other. Tiredly, he sat up and rubbed his eyes, pulling the blanket more firmly around his waist as he settled back against the cool wall.

“Was yesterday the only time you came down here not completely high?”

Maedhros wasn't even sure he wanted to know the answer, but couldn't stop himself from asking anyway. Mairon just shrugged, coming closer to unceremoniously drop down on the edge of the bed next to him. There was a familiar reckless gleam in his eyes as his teasing fingers found their way under the blanket and brushed the ankle of Maedhros’ foot.

“It’s not like you were particularly bothered by that so far, were you?”

And for the first time, Maedhros wanted to withdraw from Mairon's touch, his stomach churning with the thought, and with a vague sense of anger at the casualness in Mairon's voice.

“Don't,” he shook his head, his voice tight, and stared hard into those green eyes. “I'm not in the mood.”

“Oh, you’d rather prefer to sit here and brood?” Mairon smirked, not withdrawing his hand but instead letting it travel further up. “I think I have a much better suggestion.”

“Better than to pretend nothing's wrong,” Maedhros said in anger, hand shooting out to snatch Mairon's wrist. “I said  _ I'm not in the mood. _ ”

There was a flicker of arousal in the green eyes that told Maedhros clearly that his words did not necessarily have the effect he was aiming for. “Want me to get you into it?” Mairon asked amiably, tilting his head. “Come on, Mae. I brought you food and all.”

With an incredulous huff, Maedhros felt the anger rise further in his chest. “What, and you're trying to pay me with it?” He pushed Mairon's hand away, eyes narrowing. “This isn't just going to go away because you decide to ignore it. What do you think will happen when Melkor returns? That he won't hurt you, or me? All because you put your head in the sand?”

Now anger was flashing up in Mairon’s eyes as well, his mood shifting quickly. “All because of  _ me?  _ You’re the one who keeps denying me any help on the encryption, because, I don’t know, your father thinks Melkor will destroy the world all super-villain style if you do.” He scoffed. “And will apparently gladly risk the life of his own son for that conviction. Having strange priorities seems to be a thing in your family.”

Now the anger spiked, became a familiar fury that Maedhros swallowed down only with effort. The result was a choked, irrational laugh.

“You think Melkor won't do it? That he's simply going to cash in on my father's invention and no one will get hurt over it? Good luck keeping that self-delusion up.”

“Your father.” Mairon rolled his eyes. “Why did he even invent this shit if he was so concerned what could happen with it? Or is it just that  _ Melkor  _ could get his hands on his pet project? Because your father just doesn’t strike me as the guy who cares so much about the well-being of others. Didn’t he fire hundreds of your company’s workers out of mere paranoia after his precious Silmaril files were stolen?”

Of course… of course this had been bound to come up at some point. As if the memories were not still fresh enough, Fëanor beside himself with fury when he had discovered that there were spies of Melkor's network in his own company, the sudden and ruthless decision to cut off any branch of the company he didn't consider absolutely vital, the angry protests in the streets for hundreds of people losing their jobs, the blame and smear campaigns and lines drawn in the sand.

“You have no idea what you're talking about,” Maedhros shook his head, fingernails biting into his palms.

“But you do. Daddy’s precious boy who’s just  _ so _ ready to take the fall for his paranoia,” Mairon scoffed, eyes blazing in anger now. “Who do you think you are, Mae, some kind of fucking superhero?”

Maedhros had to bite back the harsh words that almost left his tongue, knowing that if they did, they would only make it all worse. Reminding him instead that his father was right not to give Melkor  _ anything _ about the Silmarils, no matter what. That in this, he was right with his paranoia that had already destroyed so much, that had torn their family apart…

That Mairon was high and scared, that condescension was always his favourite weapon…

“I will tell you  _ one more time _ that I know nothing that would help you crack that encryption,” he finally said but could not, after all, stop himself there. “But even if I did, and even if I helped you and you cracked it - what do you think would happen? That Melkor would just let me walk away, after everything I've seen and heard here?” It was a deeply set fear of that thought that brought out another soft, irrational laugh. “That you and him will go back to whatever it was you had at the start? You came here yesterday begging me to  _ make you forget _ , because obviously even your drugs aren't doing that job well enough anymore -”

“And who was the fucking idiot who got me into all of this shit? _ ”  _ Mairon hissed, getting to his feet and glaring at him, clenching his fists. “You realize I’ve been protecting your dumb ass all along, don’t you? I could call him  _ right now _ and tell him you’re being all pigheaded and refusing to help me in any way and then  _ I’d  _ be out of this -”

“Would you really?” Maedhros shot back, glaring at Mairon even as his heart raced. “Tell me, Mairon, tell me honestly if you think that would solve all your problems! And don't you  _ dare _ make me responsible for your fucked up life!”

“You don’t know  _ shit  _ about my life!”

“Oh, is it  _ even worse _ than the shit I already do know about?”

“Well, not all of us can be a fucking poster child,” Mairon shot back derisively, but Maedhros was still stuck on his own words.

“How many criminal things has he made you do for him anyway? How deeply has he dragged you into his shit?”

Mairon laughed, without a trace of humor in his voice. “Wow. You must really think me a complete idiot if you think I would tell you  _ that. _ ”

There it was again, a cold, helpless worry mixing in with the anger that made Maedhros clench his jaw.

“You're really convenient for him, aren't you? He gets to use your talents  _ and _ your body, and has tied you to him well enough that you're letting it happen.”

He had found a sore point, he could see it by the furious look in Mairon’s eyes. 

“Oh you’re a fine one to talk, of all people. What the fuck have  _ you  _ been doing the past two weeks?” He snorted, his voice cold and derogative. “Seems there’s a pattern about me ending up with older, bossy men who first fuck me and then try to manipulate me into sorting out their shit for them. Guess I should  _ really  _ work on that. Maybe I should have a word with your ex once in a while,  _ he  _ seems to know how to dump that type of douchebag.”

The words hit so low that they seemed to punch the breath right out of Maedhros’ chest, a tangle of fury and pain nearly blinding him. Uncaring about everything else - unable even if he wanted to - Maedhros rose to his feet, blanket falling away, heart racing as he stared down at Mairon in overwhelming fury.

“Get out.  _ Get out! _ ”

With a startled look in his green eyes, Mairon backed away. For a split second it seemed to Maedhros as if he wanted to say something, but then he merely turned and hurried out of the room, more of a headless escape than anything else.

The sound of the door falling shut was paired with a wordless, enraged cry made out of all that anger, frustration, hurt, fear and regret that the night had brought back and Mairon had finally released.

***

He should  _ really _ do less coke.

Laying on his bed and slowly coming down from the drug, Mairon cursed himself inwardly. He knew he had overstepped a critical line, had known it the very second he had seen the rage flashing up in Maedhros’ grey eyes. Why the fuck had he said all those hurtful things, half of them not even remotely true? He could not possibly hold it against Maedhros that he was trying to convince him to turn against Melkor and go to the police, yet to think of it… It was not possible. As little as he might have liked it, Mairon was and had nothing without Melkor, nowhere he could go. He was mixed up in enough of his crimes that he might as well end up behind bars himself, or worse, Melkor might find him first, and Mairon had a very good idea how his lover dealt with those who betrayed him. 

_ ‘You're really convenient for him, aren't you? He gets to use your talents and your body, and has tied you to him well enough that you're letting it happen.’ _

Of course Maedhros had just nailed his very problem, and that was what had made Mairon so furious that he had aimed for the one thing that he knew without doubt would hurt him: comparing him to his enemy. Even though it had been a load of bullshit. Maedhros had never made Mairon feel unsafe or threatened, even though rationally, he had every reason to try. Even during their fight, seeing Maedhros beside himself with fury, Mairon had never been afraid of getting physically hurt. Melkor, on the contrary… The bruise on his right arm had turned into an ugly blueish green, a sharp reminder of what the man he was with was capable of. 

Yet what made his chest tighten painfully was not thinking about Melkor, but knowing that Maedhros was mad and angry with him, and worse, rightfully so. But what the fuck could he do, what  _ should  _ he do to make this right?

The hours of the afternoon passed eventlessly and it fell dark. At some point, his phone beeped, a short text message from Melkor. 

_ Anything? _

Mairon thought for a moment about simply not answering it, but he was not interested in Melkor showing up here earlier than intended, and so he just texted back,  _ I’m on it.  _

There was no answer to that.

Mairon stared at the ceiling of his room until he couldn’t see it anymore in the darkness. He knew he had to go back eventually, but couldn’t bring himself to do so. Not right now. Hours passed and eventually, he fell into a restless sleep, tossing and turning and waking once again to the memory of those furious grey eyes glaring at him. When morning eventually dawned, he felt crushed and exhausted, a glance into the mirror showing that his face was paler than usual, with dark circles under his eyes.

He had to go back to that basement. If only for the reason that Maedhros needed food. He hadn’t even gotten a second meal yesterday, and that was certainly not going to improve his mood.

Mairon sighed, closing his eyes.  _ Don’t be such a fucking coward. Just admit you fucked up. _

Yet it took him a couple more hours in which he dragged out the inevitable, showering, driving off to buy food and fretting about what he had to do. The urge to do drugs was overwhelming, but he didn’t. Being high would boost his confidence, but it would displease Maedhros even more than he was already, so better not to risk it.

It was almost noon again when he finally made his way back to the basement with a bag of food. Before the door to Maedhros’ room, he hesitated and fought the urge just to turn on his heel and head back. But of course that was no option with Boldog and the others still upstairs. So he sighed, plucked up his courage and unlocked the door to enter eventually.

Maedhros was sitting on the edge of the undone bed, as though he had only just sat up when he had heard Mairon’s footsteps coming down the creaky stairs. This time though, he was fully dressed in that same outfit Mairon had bought for him two weeks ago, jeans and shirt, barefoot even though the floor must be cold in here. Inadvertently comparing him to the Maedhros from two weeks ago, Mairon found that he looked paler and with darker rings under his eyes that equaled his own, and that beard giving him a rougher, wilder appearance. And he looked over at Mairon wordlessly, his eyes calculating, attentive, but with no hint of that fury from the day before left right now.

Mairon could feel his heart beating hard and fast in his chest.

“Hey,” he said carefully. “I have food for you.”

Maedhros gave him a small nod of acknowledgement or thanks, Mairon wasn’t sure. But even though he never took his eyes off him, he didn’t say anything.

Closing and locking the door carefully behind him, Mairon put the bags down on the table, taking more time than he probably should have before he turned to face Maedhros again, who hadn’t moved.

Mairon sighed. “Maedhros, I…” Fuck, why did this have to be so damn hard? “I’m sorry about yesterday. Can we talk?”

Maedhros just looked at him for a long moment, his eyes inquisitive but hard to read. Eventually, he got to his feet and walked over to the table, unrolling the top of all three bags and peering inside. But he didn’t comment, just leaned against the edge of the table and crossed his arms over his chest as he looked at Mairon again.

“Alright,” he finally said evenly. “I’m particularly interested in hearing what you consider the similarities between me and Melkor.”

Mairon lowered his gaze, not really able to look him in the eye right now. “I was high and being an idiot when I said that,” he muttered ruefully. “I really didn’t mean it.”

“The differences, then,” Maedhros prompted, still watching him closely. “Tell me. I want to hear it.”

The differences. There was a world of differences, and for a moment, Mairon didn’t even know where to start. He briefly considered trying to evade the question, but he knew Maedhros well enough by now to be certain he wouldn’t have it. 

“You… I always feel safe with you. That I can trust you… and that you won’t hurt me.”

Even though after what had happened with Melkor just before, Maedhros might have had every reason to, as Mairon had to admit. And yet… despite their situation, Mairon knew with a certainty that he couldn’t explain even to himself that he could trust him.

He hesitated long enough that Maedhros eventually said quietly, "Go on."

Mairon took a deep breath and tried to put this feeling into words. “You're challenging me, you're teasing me… but I never feel that you try to make me feel bad about myself. I believe you are actually interested in how I feel and what I need. And you never try to make me do something I don’t want to. Well, in bed at least.”

At that last bit, he could see a soft, subtle twitching of the corners of Maedhros’ mouth, but only because he had his gaze trained somewhere on his chin instead of his eyes.

“Well, I'm glad to hear. I do hope we can agree on you never making an issue of or trying to use that against me again.”

Mairon nodded, slowly. “I won’t. Promise.”

“Good.” Maedhros paused for a moment, and then, eventually, said, “Look at me?”

Carefully, Mairon lifted his gaze, unsure what he would find in his eyes. They weren't angry but hard, without give, and Mairon  _ knew _ that Maedhros was damn serious when he continued.

“Don't think reading a bit of yellow press gives you the knowledge or the right to open your mouth to me about the end of my relationship. Don't  _ ever _ use that against me again.”

“Yeah that was just a dumb thing to say,” Mairon muttered contritely. “I’m sorry about that, too. Also, the things I said about your father… I shouldn’t have said  _ any _ of that.”

He could see Maedhros let out a soft breath, almost like a small sigh. “No, you shouldn't have,” he said, still observing Mairon with unwavering eyes. But finally he raised his hand, and it came to rest lightly on the juncture between Mairon's shoulder and neck. “Thank you for the apology.”

He hadn’t been aware of how tense he was until Maedhros touched him. Yet the familiar gesture was sufficient to make Mairon exhale a small sigh of relief as he pressed his jaw against the hand resting on his shoulder.

“Are we good?” he asked tentatively, his heart plummeting a little when Maedhros said, “There’s more.” Yet he also brushed his thumb over Mairon’s neck in a small but infinitely reassuring gesture before pulling his hand away and looking straight at him again.

“I told you at the start - second, third day in, I think - that I would always respect your boundaries, and that if we’re hitting any of them, you need to tell me. Remember that?”

“Mhm.” Of course, he had made fun of it that day, rolling his eyes at Maedhros and asking him teasingly what kind of atrocious plans he had for him. Back then, Maedhros hadn’t even reacted all that much, had just said that he’d only find out if he consented to that rule. 

Maedhros nodded a little. “I didn’t say that because I had outrageous plans for you. I said it because we didn’t know each other, I didn’t know what you might or might not be comfortable with, and because sometimes, those things vary. And it’s important to be able to rely on that being okay. Do you reckon that contributed in any way to you feeling safe with me and trusting me not to hurt you?”

“I… suppose so,” Mairon said, adding with a little wry smile, “even though I don’t think you ever gave me a reason to test you.” Or at least he could not remember that he had refused anything Maedhros had ever come up with, quite the contrary - most of the time it had been Mairon pushing and prodding for more, eager to take on everything Maedhros might challenge him with.

“Well, I couldn’t have known that,” Maedhros said with a hint of a smile in return, though he became serious again right away. “But this is a deal that goes both ways. If I tell you no in very clear and uncertain terms about anything - and you  _ knew  _ I was being serious - you need to respect my boundaries as well.”

“Okay,” Mairon sighed a little. “I was just… you know. I thought I could make you feel better, distract you from all this bullshit.” He bit his lip, hesitating, before he eventually decided to ask the question anyway. “Did I really end up hurting  _ you _ , Mae?”

This time it was Maedhros who let out a soft but long sigh, some of that weariness replacing the last bit of hardness that had been in his eyes.

“To be fair to you, on a different day, it might have worked. But I was in a very bad place to begin with. And I know I was being harsh to you, but I believe I was still being truthful.” Another small sigh, and Maedhros met his eyes again. “Some of what you said did hurt me, but we talked about that, and it’s okay. I know -” He just looked at Mairon for a moment, then raised his hand and grasped his shoulder again, but only for a moment before he reached up and let his thumb trail over his cheekbone. “I know you’re in a shitty situation too. I  _ know  _ this is hard. And I know you didn’t really mean it.”

“Good,” Mairon murmured, enjoying the caress. This was, in fact, less hard than he had thought Maedhros would make it for him, but after everything, maybe he shouldn’t be surprised. Maedhros’ fingers were curling into the collar of Mairon’s sweater, his gaze following them for a moment before it flickered back up to his eyes. Giving the fabric a soft tug, he murmured, “Come here then,” and gently pulled Mairon towards him. And Mairon stumbled gratefully into his embrace, his fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt, taking in the familiar, comforting smell and his warmth.

“Thank you,” he muttered, his face buried in the fabric of Maedhros’ shirt, and he meant it. 

Maedhros’ fingers brushed lightly over the nape of his neck, and Mairon could feel a kiss being pressed into his hair. “We’re okay,” Maedhros reassured him quietly, and because he made no move to let go of him right away, Mairon gratefully stayed in their embrace for a while longer.

Eventually it was Maedhros who did pull away again, his voice not quite as grave yet still serious when he said, “Now, there is something else we do need to talk about.”

Somehow, Mairon managed to refrain from groaning in frustration. “Something else?”

Doubtlessly Maedhros had picked up on the tone in his voice, because he crossed his arms over his chest and raised his eyebrows, giving him an unimpressed hum.

“Indeed. I do remember you complaining about me being  _ bossy _ . Was that not so?”

Mairon hesitated for a split second, contemplating his answer, but then went with the one that came to mind immediately.

“Well, you  _ are _ .”

“And do you or do you not enjoy that?” Maedhros wanted to know, his eyebrows still raised.

Oh fuck, where was this conversation going?

Mairon shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Given the amount of time I spend down here, I am surprised you have to ask.”

His lover looked utterly unmoved.

“Mmh. How about, 'Yes, Maedhros, I do’?”

_ Oh. _ It looked like he was still in trouble then, but in a kind he might actually appreciate. Trying to hide his excitement with a pretense of bashfulness, Mairon bit his lip and once again lowered his gaze. Better not get ahead of himself now.

“Yes, Maedhros. I do enjoy it.”

Maedhros let out another acknowledging hum, yet added, “Then how about you don't include that next time you have something real to complain about. And then…” He reached out to nudge one of the paper bags Mairon had brought with him. “This is very nice, but doesn't change the fact that you were only here once yesterday.”

“But… it's your favorite, right? You said you liked the food from Gar Ainion and so I drove all the way to Gondolin to get it and traffic on the Pass of Sirion was a  _ nightmare _ .” Maedhros didn't look as impressed as Mairon had hoped he would, so he continued, “And there's more than usual, there's a starter somewhere and I even bought you some chocolate cake for dessert…”

Trailing off, Mairon tried to read Maedhros’ expression again, who was looking at the contents of the bags with a concentrated look on his face. Finally, he nudged them away and pointedly looked at Marion again.

“As I said: Very nice, yet still doesn't change the facts. How about you answer to that instead of diverting as you're so fond of doing  _ all the time _ ?”

“Fine - I screwed that up, too,” Mairon growled softly, but when he looked up at Maedhros again, he couldn’t help the hint of a challenge in his eyes. “Sorry, I guess.”

Instantly, he could see something flashing in Maedhros’ grey eyes. “Careful now, boy. After all those stunts you already pulled, you're treading on some mighty thin ice,” he said, his voice low and hard like his eyes. “I will tell you this once, since you don't seem to have grasped it by yourself: You don't speak to me like that. Not when you're sulky, not when you're angry, not when you're impatient. Am I making myself clear?”

“Mhm. Yes, Maedhros, you are.” Fuck, why was he always this turned on when Maedhros was just  _ looking _ at him like that? Trying for a less sarcastic tone this time, Mairon added, “I’m sorry I messed up with the meals.”

Maedhros just looked back at him for a long moment, and then eventually gave him one brief nod. “How do you plan to make up for that?”

“Hmmm.” Trying to hide his excitement, Mairon pretended having to think about it although a couple of suggestions immediately came to mind. “Well, I could -”

“I would suggest,” Maedhros interrupted him, eyebrows raised mildly, “not to propose anything  _ you  _ really want to do. Or you wouldn’t really be making up for anything, would you.”

So much for his suggestions. Mairon closed his mouth again and reconsidered, thoughtfully biting the inside of his lower lip.

“Is there anything  _ you  _ would like me to do?” he finally said, thinking he could finally see an approving glint in Maedhros’ eyes.

“Mmh. Let’s see,” the older man said, unhurriedly taking in Mairon’s face, his gaze trailing over his chin and chest all the way down to his toes as he contemplated the question for long enough that Mairon knew it was genuine. He even seemed to hesitate for a moment before returning his gaze to Mairon and answering.

“I would like to see you kneel for me,” he said, right to the point and disarmingly honest.

Mairon blinked, taken aback for a moment. Yet a look into Maedhros’ face made it clear that he wasn’t joking and then again, thinking about it, he probably shouldn’t be surprised about where this was coming from. His heart seemed to beat harder in chest, the inside of his mouth going dry. 

“Kneel,” he repeated slowly, and, looking up at Maedhros, he couldn’t resist asking with the gentlest of tease, “That’s all?”

“All?” Mairon could see a small, quizzical smile twitching around the corners of Maedhros’ mouth in return. “Yes… I suppose for now ‘that’s all’.”

So he knelt down. The basement floor was hard and cold, and Mairon had to shift back a little until he found a position on his calves that was halfway comfortable. It didn’t exactly  _ feel wrong, _ but it sure felt a little awkward and he had no idea what to do with his hands. Looking up at Maedhros, Mairon realized just how much taller the other man was from this position.

“Like this?”

“Put your hands into your lap,” Maedhros said quietly, as though he noticed even that brief moment of awkwardness. But as he had never taken his eyes off Mairon even to blink, that didn’t sound unlikely at all. And Mairon did as he was told, trying to hold Maedhros’ gaze. He tried to keep still and not fidget too much, a task not exactly easy with his heart racing with excitement and the fabric of his jeans being uncomfortably tight around his hardening cock in this position.

And apparently, Maedhros was no less affected. He took in a long, deep breath and reached out, gently cradling Mairon’s head with his hand under his chin and jaw. There was a look in his eyes that Mairon couldn’t entirely identify, only that it was deep and intense in a very quiet, appreciative way, and he slowly and very consciously brushed his thumb over Mairon’s cheekbone.

“Beautiful,” was what he finally murmured. It was the first word of praise he had spoken since the younger man had come down here, and Mairon found himself drinking it in eagerly. He wished he could reach out for Maedhros and touch him, yet Maedhros hadn’t asked for that and Mairon didn’t want to risk his disapproval once again. With a small sigh, he thus merely leaned into the touch of Maedhros’ hand ever so slightly. The gentle caress sent a pleasurable shudder down Mairon’s spine and he closed his eyes for just a second.

For a long moment, there was only the gentle, almost reverent touch on his face that seemed to raise every hair on his body, before finally, Maedhros spoke again.

“I know this isn't as easy for you as you just made it out to be. I know you're proud and usually don't like the thought of others having power over you. You  _ are _ making yourself vulnerable, I can feel how your heart's racing… but you trust me anyway.” He gave Mairon a small but warm smile, his eyes bright. “That does make it special.”

_ Well, you’re making it very easy. _

But Mairon didn’t voice the thought. Instead, he just turned his head, pressing his lips to the ball of Maedhros’ thumb, the simple gesture expressing his feelings better than any words could have. And he was rewarded with a widening smile, the most unrestrained one he had seen on Maedhros' face in a couple of days now.

Wordlessly, Maedhros caressed his jaw, and then bent down, gently tipping Mairon's face up just a little more so he could kiss him, slow and deep. And Mairon gave in to the gentle demand more than readily, parting his lips for him and allowing himself to bask in the warm glow of Maedhros’ appreciation. It had been only two days but damn, he had missed being kissed like this, and after their vicious fight, his fretting and Maedhros’ relentlessness, this was just what he needed. Yet it also fuelled his excitement and after a few moments he found himself responding to the kiss more boldly, an unspoken request for Maedhros to give him more.

But Maedhros only kissed him for another long moment before drawing away, pressing a kiss to his forehead and straightening. But he kept Mairon's head cradled in his hand and his eyes on him.

“I'm going to tell you what happens now - or what doesn't happen, as the case may be.” A smile flickered over his lips. “We’re not going to have sex today. I'm not going to make you  _ come _ today.”

“Hmm?” Mairon blinked, sobering in a less pleasant way than he would have liked to. He looked at Maedhros, trying to find out whether he was merely teasing him but couldn’t see any indication of it. “But I thought you said -”

“Shh. Don't sulk,” Maedhros reprimanded him, though it was with a gentle, mildly amused tone of voice, his thumb brushing over Mairon's lower lip. “You want to make up in full? This is the last thing I'll ask you to do: To accept this.”

Oh, but this wasn’t to his liking and worse, Maedhros knew it all too well. Mairon fought hard to keep his face straight and not to let his disappointment show too much. 

“Fine,” he eventually huffed with a shrug, giving Maedhros a tentative look. “What about  _ you _ ?”

The smile on the older man's face widened a little, his hand coming up to card his fingers gently through Mairon's hair. “Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. I'm really rather pleased with you right now.”

Stars, he didn’t even  _ know _ whether he should feel annoyed or turned on at that. It was all just a confusing mess.

Maedhros’ gaze on him was intent and contemplative. It took a moment for him to continue, but his voice was nevertheless firm when he did.

“I want you to stay there for ten minutes. Can you do that?”

Mairon nodded, though a little hesitantly, not sure where this was leading. “Mhm. Yes. I can do that.” 

He didn’t want to ask directly what Maedhros was going to do in the meantime, but the question was clearly there in his eyes. And either Maedhros saw it, or he would have told him anyway.

“I need to eat,” he said, his thumb brushing gently along the curve of Mairon's ear, and a wry smile formed on his lips. “I haven't had much for the past twenty-four hours after all.”

“Eat.” Too surprised to monitor his demeanor, Mairon gave him a look of utter disbelief. “Are you -” he stopped himself just in time from continuing the sentence with  _ fucking kidding me, _ “ _ - _ serious?”

“Oh, very much so,” Maedhros replied mildly, but he just barely raised his eyebrows at him, a subtle, wordless challenge. And he hadn’t made any indication to move away. Time to change the strategy, then.

“Okay,” Mairon said with a soft sigh but then gave Maedhros an innocent look, with just the hint of a smirk around his lips. “What are you going to start with?”

“Well, you did say you  _ think _ that there's a starter in here…” With a small but visibly amused smirk on his lips, Maedhros pulled one of the paper bags closer to him, inspecting its contents once more. “Mmhh yes…”

“That would be the logical choice, of course,” Mairon commented. “Also fits your preference for following the rules. Still…” He bit his lip, hesitating for only a split second, before he added in a gentle tease, “I always thought you were the kind of person that secretly prefers dessert first. Am I wrong?”

He could see something flicker over his lover's expression - maybe even realization - and he glanced down into Mairon's eyes again. Carefully guarded, he replied slowly, “Not usually. But… well, sometimes…”

“Well, what about today?” Mairon asked amiably. “Because if you do… I’d have a different suggestion for you what I could spend the next ten minutes on my knees with.”

There it was again, that flash in those grey eyes, making them a little brighter. Maedhros slowly turned towards him in full, visibly debating his next words. “Is that so? Tell me, then.”

“Mhmm…” Mairon hummed, his gaze travelling from Maedhros’ face down his chest, resting on his crotch. His voice was all playful now, this was familiar territory, after all. “I bet watching me kneel down here made you rock hard, am I right? That must be… uncomfortable sitting down. So I could open these tight jeans and take out that nice, big cock of yours. Take it into my mouth, and suck you off just as you like it. Nice and slow, or you go ahead and take me as roughly as you like. You know I don’t mind that either.” 

Looking back up into those grey eyes, Mairon could tell that his lover was aroused, and very much into his proposition. Still, for a long moment, he wasn't sure if he'd relent and go along with it, or stay strictly on his course, watching Maedhros’ face with a wildly beating heart.

And he  _ did _ look pleased. Yet what he said was a carefully even, "You do know that this will not change the fact that I will not make you come today, don't you?"

“I know,” Mairon said, trying his best not to sound sulky, but instead give him a little mischievous smile. “So… may I, Maedhros?”

He could watch a smile spread on Maedhros’ lips, and this time, he even looked a little proud when he said, “Yes. You may.”

_ Fuck yes. _

He had done this before occasionally, but given the little time they had, usually just as a part of foreplay, teasing and toying with Maedhros just long enough so he would growl and flip him over to fuck him senseless. Today, though, he just acknowledged his reply with a satisfied grin before he set himself straight to the task, opening the fly of Maedhros’ jeans and pulling them down just far enough. Pleased to find his cock exactly as hard as he had assumed just a moment ago, he eagerly took it into his mouth without further ado, immediately looking up so he could see the look of pleasure cross his lover's face.

It was there alright, lips parted as Maedhros let out a deep breath. Fingers were carding slowly, distractedly through Mairon's hair again, but no less appreciative for it. Feeling encouraged in what he was doing, Mairon set himself at a slow yet steady pace, enjoying both the feeling and the way he felt Maedhros reacting to each of his motions, how his breath just got a little heavier when Mairon ran his tongue gently along the underside of his cock. One of his hands caressed its way up Maedhros’ thigh, nudging his legs apart just a bit further so he could cup and gently cradle his balls.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see how Maedhros reached back with his free hand to prop himself up against the table, how his eyes flickered shut only to open and fix on him again right away.

“Oh… you're incredible at this, fuck… But you know that, we both do. Because you fucking  _ love _ doing it, don't you?” Out of slightly lowered lids, those grey eyes kept watching him in obvious pleasure yet with no less intensity for it.

Mairon replied with a teasing glance up as well as a low, approving hum in the back of his throat. Maedhros was right - he had always been fond of giving head, and he knew he was good at it - the praise possibly was one of the reasons why he enjoyed it so much. Yet there was an exceptional thrill about it here, with this gorgeous man whom he, for some reason, allowed to hold so much power over him. And he was determined to please Maedhros as thoroughly as he possibly could, relaxing to take him in deeper, while slowly but steadily increasing the pace.

A soft curse was his reward, something almost like a grimace of pleasure visible on Maedhros’ face before he schooled himself enough to look back at Mairon. His touch was still gentle, fingers ghosting over Mairon’s cheek. “Stars, of course… of course you’d - Can you do that, hm?” he wanted to know, thumb brushing along Mairon’s lower lip. “Take me all the way into your throat?”

Mairon couldn't help another shudder of excitement at the question. Slowly pulling back, he continued stroking Maedhros lightly with his hand, tilting his head and pointedly giving his cock a quizzical look as if he wasn't quite sure about it.

“Mhmm. I  _ guess _ I could, for you,” he then purred, giving the head a teasing, experimental lick. “Do you want me to, Mae?”

He could see the corners of Maedhros’ mouth twitching just a little amid his obvious arousal, fingertips brushing over his cheek in a soft, reverent gesture.

“Yes… Yes, baby, I do.”

Mairon just smirked at him, loving every moment of this. “Alright, then. Watch me.”

Taking Maedhros’ cock into his mouth again, Mairon relaxed his throat, slowly taking him deeper. His hands rested on Maedhros’ backside, gently squeezing and nudging his hips forward, guiding him further. Excited to no end, Mairon made a satisfied humming noise, knowing full well that Maedhros would feel the vibrations of his throat and that it would increase his pleasure. And a soft, slightly choked sound told him that it was working alright.

Maedhros was still watching him with rapt attention, staying utterly still even though Mairon could feel the tremor of muscles under his palms.

“Stars - Mairon -”

He could see Maedhros swallow harshly, and it seemed to take another moment until more coherent words returned to him.

“You’re a real natural here, hm? This feels so good, you don’t even - fuck -”

Maedhros’ reactions were incredibly satisfying and if he could have, Mairon would have laughed out loud. Yet while he was sure that he could have easily and quickly made him come like this, Maedhros had not told him to do so. And while Mairon was sure he wouldn’t have complained even if he had taken control from him right now, he wasn’t interested in doing so, not after all that had happened before. So he stilled his head, slowly, almost lazily caressing the soft skin of the shaft with his tongue and holding Maedhros’ gaze, waiting how he’d like him to continue.

He watched as his lover let out a shuddering breath and then reached up to caress Mairon's cheek with his palm, a small but intense smile curling around the corners of his mouth.

“That - mmhh. Tell me, how does that feel for you? Are you happy with yourself?”

Slowly, Mairon pulled his head back enough to take a deep breath, flexing his jaw and then giving him a smirk with just a hint of smugness. “Mhm. I like your cock, Mae, always have. Especially when it’s inside me.” Mairon’s voice was just a little raspy, his breath audibly faster than before. “But you know that, don’t you? Same as you probably know how  _ fucking hard  _ I am for you right now?”

The corners of Maedhros’ mouth twitched in a widening smile, and his fingers trailed up into Mairon’s hair.

“You are, hm? I’ll tell you something.” His thumb brushed gently along the curve of Mairon’s ear, sending a small shudder through his body. “You keep doing just that. Take breaks to breathe, and suck me off until I come down your throat. And when you’re down here next time, I’ll really, really make it worth your while that you’ve been so good for me. How does that sound?”

Mairon couldn’t suppress the smallest of growls at the fact that apparently, he really could not get Maedhros to change his mind about what he had said, even though he wasn’t even sure if he had wanted him to. “Fair, I guess.”

Maedhros tipped his head and raised his eyebrows at Mairon, still amused. “You guess?”

Mairon couldn’t resist taking the challenge and shrugging innocently, his breath ghosting over hardened flesh. “You know… It’s hard to think clearly with so little blood left for my brain.”

A surprised laugh burst from Maedhros’ lips, and another, smaller one right after, gentle fingers tugging affectionately on Mairon’s hair. “I suggest you stop thinking then,” he grinned and lightly guided Mairon back to his cock. Humming a sound of approval, Mairon chose not to comment on that further and instead set himself to the task. 

Taking Maedhros back in deep, this time Mairon did not hold still but moved his head back and forth, attentively sucking and running his tongue along his cock. One of his hands was firmly resting on his backside, gently encouraging Maedhros to flex his hips and meet the rhythm of his head movements, while the other was back between Maedhros’ legs, gently massaging his balls and the sensitive spot right behind. Finally, he took him deeper again, relaxing himself as the head nudged against the back of his mouth, as it slid down into his throat.

And he  _ did  _ love this, the half coherent mix of curses and praises from Maedhros, the firm but gentle hand in his hair, the sight, taste, smell,  _ everything  _ about him. It filled Mairon with a smug feeling that this time, it was Maedhros who had to bite back a moan when he shuddered, all his muscles flexing under Mairon’s hands as he finally found release with a deep sigh.

Gently sucking him through it and swallowing eagerly, Mairon couldn’t suppress a few excited noises himself at seeing his lover like this. It almost made up for the fact that he was still painfully hard himself, his jeans feeling way too tight around his cock. He shifted a little, trying to ease the pressure, and looked up to distract himself with the sight of that blissed look on Maedhros’ face, the way his chest rose and fell with the deep, gradually slowing breaths, the grey eyes that focused on him again, the smile that spread on his lips.

“That was amazing,” Maedhros admitted, half still propping himself up on the edge of the table behind him. His right hand combed through Mairon’s hair again, his thumb brushing over his temple.

“Mhm, I figured. You’re welcome,” Mairon replied smugly, yet he took the opportunity to rest his head against Maedhros’ thigh, enjoying the caress.

For a moment, they stayed there in silence, only Maedhros’ fingers still keeping up their soft little movements, before Mairon could hear him mutter a quiet, “Thank you.”

Mairon just replied with a short, undefined hum, and they remained like this for a while longer until finally, Maedhros shifted under him. When Mairon drew away, his lover adjusted himself back into his jeans, closed them, and then reached for both of Mairon’s hands to pull him back to his feet and into a kiss that Mairon returned gratefully. Wrapping his arms around Maedhros’ neck, he could barely keep the kiss slow and sweet instead of letting the unsatisfied hunger and latent impatience come through. Mairon thought he had never wanted Maedhros’ hands as badly all over is body as he did now. And maybe Maedhros knew it, because eventually he went from kissing him with his hands rubbing slow, soothing circles into the small of his back to slowly pulling away.

He took a step back and sat down on a chair, looking up at Mairon and hesitating a moment before he asked, “Can you stay for a few more minutes?”

Mairon shrugged, looking in the direction of the door. “I suppose I can. Why?”

Maedhros’ hand caught his own, and he tugged him over and into his lap, an arm coming around his waist while the other tugged the paper bags over and Maedhros smiled at him.

“Then you can eat with me.”

“You’re offering to share your food with me?” Mairon raised his eyebrows in an amused gesture, shifting in his lap until he was sitting comfortably. “Wow. You can’t be  _ that _ famished, then.”

“I’m offering you  _ bites _ ,” Maedhros returned with an amused tilt to his voice, procuring the little boxes of food one-handed while his other arm remained around Mairon’s waist. “You do deserve them.”

“Fine. I’ll have a bite from you any time,” Mairon smirked, leaning in to nibble lightly on the shell of Maedhros’ ear for a moment, procuring a soft, amused sound from the other man. But he seemed too focused on his starter to answer, some sort of baked fig and something - goat’s? cheese filling wrapped up in a light, crispy pastry, if Mairon recalled correctly. There was a decidedly blissful look on Maedhros’ face as he bit into one that almost rivalled the one he had sported during his orgasm earlier.

Mairon chuckled. “I reckon you approve of my food choices for once.”

His first reply was a little hum before Maedhros had swallowed and could reply in full. “Tell me, honestly: Wouldn’t you prefer this too, if it came down to it?”

Mairon shrugged. “You didn’t let me try, yet.”

He received an inquisitive, wordless look for his reply as Maedhros held up the second half of the little canapé without hesitation. “Didn’t you ever get taken out to some fancy place for good food?”

“Well, it’s been a while,” Mairon answered evasively. When he had just met Melkor, the older man had indeed taken him out to some fancy places, to impress him and - possibly - to show him off. Not that Mairon had minded back then. Brushing aside the thought of Melkor, he let Maedhros feed him the small bite. It was, of course, delicious, but Mairon couldn’t help teasing him a little and keeping his face deliberately unimpressed. “Not too bad, I guess.”

“Of course you do,” Maedhros merely murmured with a small shake of his head and an indulgent little smile, apparently more interested in eating the second of the small canapés than in chastising him. Mairon smiled, shifting again so he could rest his head on Maedhros’ shoulder and watch him eat.

“Can I ask you a question?” he eventually said, adding as an afterthought, “It might have to do with your former relationships, though.”

First, his reply consisted of a short hum he couldn't really read much from. But the grip of the arm around his waist remained firm and warm, fingers having slipped beneath the edge of his sweater to brush absently over a sliver of skin, and finally Maedhros said, “Go ahead.”

“Before, have you…” Mairon hesitated, as he found it surprisingly difficult to phrase his question. “Has it been like this with others you slept with?”

“Like this?” Unsurprisingly, considering the vagueness of his question, Maedhros asked for specification, but when none came right away, he raised his gaze to look at Mairon. There he seemed to be able to read what Mairon was struggling to word, because his next sound was an understanding, “Ah.” Still, he didn't reply immediately, unwrapping his main instead, an artfully draped arrangement of duck breast with some vegetables Mairon had already forgotten the names of. The whole presentation had, of course, suffered from the transport but still looked rather fancy.

“No, not like this,” Maedhros eventually replied, an expression on his face that was hard to read. “Not with this… intensity.”

Mairon blinked at him in surprise. “Really? I mean… you seem to know what you’re doing. I just thought, you know, that’s just your thing.”

The smile that flickered over Maedhros’ lips looked a little flattered, but definitely pleased. The first few bites of the main disappeared before he replied, holding up the fork with a piece of duck and vegetable for Mairon as he did.

“Not really. I mean… I suppose it is,” he said, in his voice a note of mild self-deprecating humour. “But apart from the basics, this is mostly new territory to me, I have to admit.”

“Hm,” Mairon said, not sure what to think about this. To stall for time, he just took the offered bite. Now that they were good again, he realized just how hungry he was - he hadn’t eaten anything since last morning as well, feeling too distressed to even think of food.

It tasted all the better for it.

“So what,” he asked teasingly after he had swallowed it down, “you just thought now that you had some time on your hands, you’d go ahead and try with me?”

This time, there was visible amusement on Maedhros’ face, and it seemed like he was biting back a small laugh. The next bite, he kept for himself again, but already before he swallowed, his lips curled back into a soft grin. “No. At the start, I just wanted to put you down a notch from the whole smugness and bratty act you had going on. But then you responded so well to it and… suddenly we were there. I hadn’t planned that at all.”

“So what you’re saying is… this is happening because of me?” Mairon asked softly, reaching out to brush some strands of Maedhros’ auburn hair back. He still wasn’t sure whether to feel special or embarrassed by it, but maybe it was a little bit of both. And maybe it was audible in his voice, because Maedhros looked up from his meal to search his eyes.

“Certainly not only,” he finally said, mildly drawing up his eyebrows and giving Mairon a small, reassuring smile. “It takes two to do that, don’t you think?”

Mairon gave an approving hum and leaned in to press a gentle kiss to Maedhros’ jaw. “So… when you’re calling me smug and bratty… do you or do you not enjoy that?” 

The tease in his words was unmistakable and drew a huff from his lover. But still he tipped his head towards Mairon in a small, nuzzling caress.

“I suppose most of the time I must.” There was a note of irony in his voice, but it lacked all edge, and he pressed a short but firm kiss to Mairon’s lips. 

“Well then, how about ‘Yes, Mairon, I do’?”, Mairon couldn’t resist asking sweetly, smirking against Maedhros’ lips and earning himself a hard bite into his lower lip.

“Don't push it,” his lover growled, “or I'll seriously reconsider my plans for you for tomorrow.”

With a low chuckle, Mairon let his head sink back to his shoulder. “All right. I’ll be good, then.” He couldn’t help asking curiously, though, “Any chance you’ll tell me?”

Maedhros just hummed, gathered another bite on his fork and pressed a light kiss to Mairon's hair. “I don't think so. Let's just say… you'll like it.”

“Well, consider me intrigued,” Mairon murmured. He still could not quite wrap his head around the fact that this was new for Maedhros as well, who had always acted with such self-assurance and confidence, even in a situation as difficult as they were in. Mairon would probably have been less surprised if he had admitted that he owned a professional dungeon back home. The thought alone of what it was that Maedhros might have in store for him the next day filled him with excited anticipation, a low, simmering heat in his gut that was as pleasant as it was maddening.

Only that he would have no chance at all to find out about it the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... whoops? :D


	7. Breaking Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When things escalate, Mairon needs to make a decision. Enter: Fingon the ~~Valiant~~ brave little idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting seriously uncomfortable for our favourite redhead. Be warned.

Mairon hadn’t expected Melkor to be back so soon. Or maybe he had only hoped that he would not be back so soon. Yet the sound of several voices and the bustle from the ground floor were warning enough for him to shut down all windows related to his private holograph desktop project and instead start the decryption program and open the folder with the Silmarils files. He barely managed to set up the pretense that he was working hard on cracking the encryption on his laptop when Melkor stormed in, the expression on his face boding ill news.

“Did you get it?” was the first and only thing he said, barely suppressed rage in his voice and in his eyes. Wildly, his gaze trailed over Mairon's laptop and the files on his screen, stepping up right behind him to have a better look, as if he could decipher any of it himself.

 _Well hi, it’s great to see you too_ , Mairon thought, but there was something in Melkor’s eyes that made him refrain from saying it out loud. Instead he merely said defensively, “I told you, I’m on it. See?”

But the growl that escaped Melkor was still enraged and impatient, and he rapidly paced the room a couple of times.

“I've had enough of this thrice-damned family!” he finally snapped. “Thinking they can all just play me the fool!”

“Why? What happened?” Mairon asked in alarm, closing his laptop and sitting up on the couch to focus on Melkor.

Instead of an answer, the older man pulled a folded letter from inside his coat and threw it down on the coffee table with visible disgust and rage. After a quick glance at him, Mairon reached for it, knowing immediately what this was: Fëanor’s answer. And he barely had to skim it to find the relevant part in the short text.

_If you think I will let myself be forced into giving up the Silmarils to a terrorist like you, you are entirely, stupidly wrong. Return my son to me hale and unharmed, or I will utterly destroy you._

Oh this was not good. This was not good at all.

“Shit,” Mairon muttered, looking up at Melkor. The concern in his face and his voice was real, though not for the reasons Melkor probably thought. “So… what do you want to do next?”

“Has that brat of his given you _anything_?” Melkor demanded to know without acknowledging his question.

 _Careful now._ “I told you, he’s trying to help. But I just don’t think he knows the passphrase or anything that might help me figure it out,” Mairon said slowly but with as much firmness as he could muster. Gesticulating to the letter he added, “And to be honest, looking at this, I’m not surprised. He’s quite the stubborn bastard, isn’t he? Doesn’t quite strike me as the type of guy who’d freely share his secrets with his kids.”

“So that’s a no then,” Melkor growled as though he hadn’t heard anything else Mairon had said. Again he paced the room, but instead of receding, the rage in his eyes only seemed to burn brighter. “Right,” he finally added, as if only to himself. “Right - let’s see how you’ll like this.” And he turned on his heel and left, his voice thundering down the stairwell. “Gothmog!”

Suppressing a curse, Mairon was immediately on his feet, hastening after him. “Hey… wait! Melkor, wait!” When he caught up with him on the stairhead, he put a hand in what he hoped to be a pacifying gesture on his forearm. “What do you want to _do_?”

It seemed like Melkor only really became aware of his presence again now, eyes settling on Mairon for only a moment. “You should come along,” was the only thing he said, Gothmog appearing by his side. And already, he turned away again and started to descend the stairs to the cellar, Gothmog right behind him.

_Fuck. Fuck._

Panicked, Mairon felt his heart beat hard and fast in his chest. He hadn’t been down there today yet, and for a moment, he thought about just turning around and heading back upstairs. He doubted that at this point, Melkor would really mind, but…

He couldn’t. He couldn’t leave Maedhros alone with them again. Not with the mood Melkor was in right now. And just as he had made the decision, Melkor’s voice thundered up the stairs again.

“Mairon! Keys!”

And so Mairon hurried to follow them, his stomach churning at what might happen next.

It became apparent the moment Mairon unlocked the door and Melkor pushed past him into the cellar room, Gothmog right on his heels.

“Hello Maedhros,” Mairon could hear Melkor’s voice. “Remember what I said last time?”

Rushing inside after them, Mairon saw how Gothmog reached for Maedhros, roughly twisting one arm behind his back, and pushed him forward to where Melkor was standing with his arms crossed over of his chest. Mairon stopped right in the doorframe, bewildered, his eyes involuntarily looking for Maedhros’ whose gaze flickered to him briefly in return.

There was alarm on his face, a tightness around his eyes that seemed entirely out of place for him. But their eyes were locked only for a brief moment before Maedhros looked at Melkor again.

“ _I told you -_ ”

“Yes, yes, you have all told me,” Melkor interrupted him, taking a step closer. “But somehow I find myself not caring anymore. _Your father_ doesn’t care either, does he? Do you think we can make him?”

While he had talked, his voice had increased in volume, and as he shouted his last question, Melkor lunged and punched Maedhros hard in the face. It came so sudden that Mairon winced, unable to suppress a shocked gasp. His eyes were flying to Melkor’s face, trying to find out what he was aiming for. Find an outlet for his rage? Scare Maedhros? Kill him? Mairon wanted to open his mouth to say something, but found himself choked with fear, the memory of how Melkor was these days if one dared to object him still vivid in his mind.

Another punch flew, but this time, Maedhros let himself drop and kicked out at the same time, missing Melkor’s knee only because Gothmog reacted fast enough and pulled Maedhros back and onto the ground. He struggled, but against Gothmog who was huge and packed with muscle, there was no give once the moment of surprise was gone.

“You really think you’re just getting away with that?” Melkor thundered and kicked at him seemingly aimlessly. Maedhros ducked away just enough that the boot connected with his shoulder instead of his head. Mairon wanted to look away, but felt he couldn’t. His stomach seemed to turn upside down as he helplessly watched how more kicks met Maedhros’ stomach, his ribs, his arms that he tried to protect his head with. He wasn’t trying to fight back anymore, merely tried to avoid the worst of the impacts, yet Melkor didn’t stop. Mairon had never seen him like this, the dark eyes full of merciless rage, shouting insults at the doubled over figure on the floor, and in a horrible moment of clarity Mairon was convinced that he was not going to stop at all.

“Melkor…” His voice sounded absurdly thin, so he tried again, this time with more force. “Melkor, stop! You’re killing him!”

Part of him was convinced that Melkor would just ignore him and go on, but surprisingly, he did not. He turned his head to look at Mairon, though his eyes were just as wild, his face showing that same dark fury. “Oh, is that a problem? If he knows nothing -” Another kick that drew a half gasp, half groan filled with pain from the hunched figure on the ground, “- and his father won’t give us anything, getting rid of him right now would be in all of our best interests.” This time, Melkor bent down to snatch Maedhros’ forearm, forced it away from his body and stomped viciously on his curled hand with the heel of his shoe, his dark eyes on Mairon even through the nauseating crunch and breathless scream.

Mairon felt as if he was going to be sick any moment, yet somehow he managed to keep his gaze fixed on Melkor and his voice somehow steady. “Fëanor will _definitely_ not give us anything if you beat his son to death.”

For a moment, Melkor simply stared at him out of narrowed eyes, breathing fast from the exertion Eventually, he turned back to Maedhros, tangled his hand in his collar and pulled his upper body up from the ground enough that he could deliver another blow to his face with his closed fist.

What the first fist punch hadn’t done, this one succeeded at: splitting skin so that both Melkor’s hand and Maedhros’ face came away bloodied. But before Mairon could say anything else, Melkor let Maedhros drop back to the ground, Gothmog straightening along with him.

Without a word, Melkor pulled his phone from his pocket and snapped a picture of Maedhros who only stirred a little, eyes closed and obviously close to unconsciousness. Mairon looked at him wordlessly, still too shocked to react in any way. The only thing he knew was that he needed to keep as calm as possible under the circumstances and not let his concern and anguish show. 

He couldn’t help the fact that he was trembling, though.

“He needs a healer.”

Finally, it seemed like most of the rage had left Melkor - at least enough that there was room for a mocking tone in his voice when he replied, “Do you see one here?” He snapped another couple of pictures before he slid his phone back into his pocket and turned towards the door, gesturing for Gothmog to follow him. The giant waited for a moment whether Mairon wanted to come as well, but when the younger man did not move, he just closed the door behind him. Mairon hesitated only for a split second until he heard heavy footsteps heading up the stairs and then turned around, hurrying to Maedhros who lay motionless on the floor.

“Mae… _fuck…_ ” Reaching out for him, Mairon stilled his hand, unsure whether he could touch him or whether that would only cause him further pain. His heartbeat was racing in his chest, his throat tight with fear. “Mae… can you hear me?”

It took a few moments during which Mairon could hear nothing but the blood rushing in his ears and Maedhros’ small, laboured breaths. He was now curled up on the side around his arm, his eyes closed. But he couldn’t be unconscious because his lips were pressed together hard enough that they had drained to an almost white, a stark contrast to the smear of blood, and eventually there was a small, court nod.

“Okay, good… stay awake, do you hear me?” Mairon’s voice was shaking badly now as he reached out to stroke Maedhros’ hair out of his forehead as gently as possible. The bruises on his face looked bad and there was a cut below his cheekbone where Melkor had hit him. At least it looked as if Melkor had done no permanent damage there, though with all the blood that smudged Maedhros’ face and his beard, it was hard to tell. His hand was another topic. Even from the little that Mairon could see, it was apparent it had been broken several times, the joints already starting to swell and stiffen. Mairon swallowed hard and blinked, once, twice, to fight back tears of anger and utter helplessness at the sight. 

“Oh _fuck_ …”

Calling himself to order, he scrambled back to his feet, heading for the bathroom. Cooling should help, he remembered vaguely. So after he had soaked the small towels in cold water in the sink, he hastened back to Maedhros, who hadn’t moved. As carefully as it was possible, Mairon tried to get him to let go of his arm so he could wrap one of the two towels around the injured hand.

“Come on, Mae, just let me help you… this will feel better, I promise…”

But when he had finally managed to free Maedhros’ hand enough to be able to carefully wrap the towel around it, Maedhros let out a low, wrenched groan that sounded utterly pained. Still, even though his body twitched, he didn't try to jerk his hand away again, only turned his head to press his forehead against the floor. It broke Mairon’s heart to see him like this, although he tried to stay as calm as possible.

“No, don’t… don’t do that,” he said softly, his voice still shaking. Taking the second towel, he tried, as carefully as possible, to dab the blood off the part of Maedhros’ face he could reach, although that was’t much. “Mae? Look at me, please?”

Again it took a moment, and he could see his lover's chest rise and fall in short, shallow breaths. But finally, Maedhros stirred again and turned his head, revealing his face to Mairon still without opening his eyes. With a deep sigh, Mairon set himself to the task of cleaning him of blood, and even though he was gentle, Maedhros was twitching at every other touch. Mairon could not blame him - the skin was already starting to discolour where Melkor had hit him, although Mairon believed his first intuition had been right and there were no bones broken in Maedhros’ face.

A small mercy considering everything else, but a mercy nonetheless that Mairon was grateful for.

Maedhros made no sound while Mairon worked, yet it seemed like his breathing was evening out at least a little, even though it still sounded too loud in the utter silence of the room. Finally, he started blinking, and a quiet, rough murmur reached Mairon’s ears while Maedhros already stirred. “Let me sit up…”

“Of course,” Mairon said, grateful to see at least the smallest bit of Maedhros’ spirits returning. “Wait… let me help you…”

Together, they slowly shifted Maedhros up into a sitting position without him having to use his right hand, and while the older man grimaced several times and was breathing faster again when he was upright, he didn’t say a word. His jaw clenched, yet a shuddering breath escaped him nonetheless, as much as a soft, “ _Fuck_.”

“Oh, Mae… I am so sorry…” Mairon wanted to hug him but he was sure he would only hurt him more by doing so, so he just left his hand resting lightly on his shoulder, trying to examine him more closely. Given how often Melkor had kicked him, there would be some more bruises on his chest and ribs, but they were covered by his shirt now. Mairon just hoped there were no other, internal bleedings that he could not see right now, and struggled to form a coherent question that would not sound entirely ridiculous.

“How do you - I mean, do you think he -” 

Maedhros didn’t answer right away, his gaze now trained on his wrapped up hand. His other was tightly gripping his own forearm, fingers digging into the skin as Mairon could see when he looked a little closer. Eventually, however, Maedhros raised his head to meet his gaze, his eyes tight and a little hazed.

“I don’t think I’m dying, if that’s what you’re asking,” he finally said.

A short, huffed laugh came over Mairon’s lips. At least Maedhros was apparently still able to form a coherent sentence that was close to sarcasm. It was _something._

“Maybe we should get you over to the bed. Do you think you can stand up?”

After a moment, his lover gave him a court nod, pressing his uninjured hand to the floor to hoist himself off it. He didn’t make a sound, but his face became even paler, and when Mairon reached out to help him, he could feel the body under his hands trembling. 

“Here, put your arm around my shoulder…” Mairon muttered, trying not to stumble unter Maedhros’ weight. “Come on, just over here… that’s right, just sit down…” As carefully as possible, he tried to help him get down onto the mattress. “Do you want me to get another towel?”

“There _are_ no more towels,” Maedhros reminded him, sounding weary more than anything else, even though his voice still had that pained edge. He slowly relaxed where he sat on the bed, and Mairon could see that he took a deep, slightly unsteady breath. “Did he say anything to you when he’d be coming back?”

“No. He said almost nothing to me,” Mairon sighed. “I don’t believe he realized I was even there most of the time.” Hesitating for a moment, a said softly, “Mae, if you know _anything_ … anything that I could tell him… I believe now would be the time.”

A soft, choked sound was the first reaction to his words, but no matter if it was a huff or a laugh, it made Maedhros shudder and grimace in pain and press his lips together. “No, Mairon,” he finally said, carefully cradling his damaged hand in his lap. “There’s no easy way out of this one.”

“Mae…” Hot, angry tears were welling up in his eyes once more and he blinked to push them back. “You can’t really be willing to _die_ for some _stupid microbots_!”

“ _Willing_ ?” Maedhros repeated, giving him an incredulous look. “I’m not willing to die, I _don’t want to die_ . But as things are, I don’t see where _I_ have much of a choice in the outcome of this.”

“There’s got to be something,” Mairon insisted. _There has to be._

Maedhros just looked at him for a long moment, unmoving, before he finally said, “Get out with me.”

“How?” Mairon asked warily, and Maedhros turned a little more towards him. He looked worse for the wear now despite the fact that the blood was mostly cleaned off his face, but his eye and cheek were starting to swell and bruise. Yet there was something sparking in his eyes that looked like hope.

“If you went to the police -”

“No,” Mairon put the suggestion down reflexively, almost panickedly. “No, I… I _can’t_.” 

“You can.” With his uninjured hand, Maedhros reached out and wrapped it around Mairon's to give it an encouraging squeeze, never breaking their gaze. “You're stronger than he thinks you are.”

“No, you don’t understand.” Mairon swallowed, hard. “If I go to the police and tell them what I know, they’ll keep me there. And he… I know he has contacts there, people in his pocket. There’s a _reason_ no one has managed to arrest him yet.”

For a long moment, Maedhros just looked at him, his expression troubled - at least from what Mairon could make out through his injuries. Finally, Maedhros let out a small, soft sigh. “Right. I know. But he’s not the only one with contacts. I -” He pressed his lips together, his expression slipping a little to reveal another flash of pain. Yet he just looked into Mairon’s eyes again. “I _have_ to believe that there’s a way out of this.”

Mairon held his gaze for a moment, then let out a frustrated groan. “Oh, _fuck this._ All right. Here.” He pulled back his hand, took his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it and pressed it into Maedhros’ uninjured hand. “I hope there’s a phone number you know by heart?”

Maedhros only stared at him for a moment, then his gaze flickered to the phone in his hand and back to Mairon’s face again. His mouth opened but no word came out at first. Instead he swallowed, and it was obvious the thoughts were racing in his head. “But I don’t know where -”

Despite the situation, the corners of Mairon’s mouth twitched. “Stars, Mae, if you don’t know you can send someone your location via phone, you _are_ old,” he teased him very gently, but quickly turned serious again. “Look, just make sure whoever you send this to talks to the right people at the police. If the wrong person hears about this, Melkor could get you away from here before they can get here.” 

Something bloomed on Maedhros’ face that had to be a smile, a world of gratitude in his grey eyes. “I would kiss you if my face didn’t feel like it got too closely acquaintanced with a train,” he said as he fumbled left-handed with the phone, but immediately became serious again and looked back into Mairon’s eyes. “ _Thank you._ ”

Mairon rolled his eyes, though not entirely seriously. “Oh, well. Feel free to expand the list of sexual favours you owe me, or buy me dinner in that fancy place in Gondolin once you’re out of here, or whatever you like.” 

A soft laugh escaped Maedhros that ended in a quiet groan. This time he didn’t look at him, too busy typing in a number with the index finger of his left hand, but once he was done, he left the phone lying on his thigh and reached for Mairon’s hand again with his good one, a serious expression on his face.

“Please, Mairon… don’t stay here. Don’t stay with him.”

Mairon gave him a long look. “Don’t worry. I won’t.” He was surprised about how calm he felt now that he had finally made the decision and how easy it had been in the end. Well, Melkor had made it very easy, he thought with a flash of bitterness, when he looked at Maedhros’ beaten face. “There’s no reason for me to be here. Not anymore.” Sighing, he added, “I guess there was never a really good reason in the first place.”

This time, Mairon noticed with surprise, he wasn’t that bothered anymore by the quiet sympathy he could see in Maedhros’ eyes, and the small, comforting squeeze of his hand. “If you ever need _anything_ ,” the older man finally said quietly, “you’ll always have me in your corner.”

Mairon couldn’t suppress a wry grin. “Oh, having you in some corner sounds like the kind of thing I might need,” he joked more light-heartedly than he felt. Gently lifting his hand and Maedhros’ with it, he pressed a short but affectionate kiss to his knuckles. “Right. I think I should run.”

He got to his feet, but Maedhros didn’t let go of his hand when he tried to step away, instead raising it to his own lips. With his eyes closed, he pressed a long kiss to the inside of his wrist, and only then untangled their fingers and looked up at him again.

“Please take care of yourself.”

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll get by,” Mairon waved it off. “Do you want me to give you the key? You would have to lock the door behind me though, I think we should better not leave it open.” 

“Probably not,” Maedhros agreed quietly, grimacing as he shifted on the bed. “But I think… Could you leave it nearby? You said there's a storage room right next door, right?”

“Good call. I’ll do that,” Mairon agreed. “There’s a shelf just next to the door, I’ll put it up there. Oh, you still have my phone.” When Maedhros handed it to him, he added, “Just out of curiosity - who did you text?”

Something flickered over Maedhros’ face that was impossible to read - harder than ever, now that parts of his face were swelling.

“There’s only one number I know by heart,” he said quietly, maybe the most bashful Mairon had ever heard him.

His ex-boyfriend, then. Mairon just gave a small nod. 

“I hope everything goes well. See you around, Mae.”

He turned and headed out the door, looking back just for the smallest of moments at Maedhros who had not taken his eyes off him. Then he closed and locked the door, his heart beating frantically in his chest.

_Right. Fuck. What have you just…_

There was no time for that. He had to get upstairs, get his things and leave as quickly and inconspicuously as possible. He could think about the where and how once he was out of the house.

As promised, Mairon put the key onto the shelf in the storage room where it would hopefully not be seen unless someone knew where to look. While heading back out, he quickly glanced at his phone. Although there had been no reply, Maedhros’ message with the location and an additional text he had sent showed as having been read.  _ Only who you really trust, little prince. _

Well, at least the guy had had the sense to include something that would let his ex know the message was really from him. Still, Mairon felt the sudden urge to roll his eyes at what was apparently some sort of corny pet name.

_Don’t be ridiculous. Forget about it and concentrate._

With a deep sigh, Mairon deleted the conversation and took the battery out of his phone before he started heading up the stairs one last time.

***

Eventually, the adrenaline born out of wild hope passed and made room for all the brute force of the injuries Melkor had inflicted upon him. While at first, Maedhros’ thoughts had circled around what Mairon had done for him and how long it might take for something to happen, eventually they spiralled away as pain became the only thing his body and mind seemed able to comprehend right now: The dull ache in his chest, behind his ribs, pressed against front and back, the stinging pulse in his face, and worst of all, the nearly unbearable pain of his swollen and stiff hand. Maedhros couldn’t allow himself to think about that for too long, already tasting a hint of panic in the back of his mouth at the thought of the damage possibly done to it even if he made it out of here alive after all.

But thinking soon became all but impossible, swallowed up by the pain-filled haze he descended into, curled up on the bed that had been his for too many days now. Time stretched like a rubber band, drowning out all his senses. Only when a sharp bang ripped through the air, Maedhros twitched, blinking in disorientation, registering some hectic, muffled sound upstairs. There were distant shouts and some other noises, something heavy falling over. Or was he imagining this? No… no, that couldn't be… Rushed footsteps, somewhere, the sound of a door crashing open. And then the muffled but painfully familiar sound of a voice that he had not heard in a long while, but that he was sure he would have recognized anywhere.

“Nelyo… Nelyo, can you hear me? _Where are you?_ ”

“Fin?” It came out as not much more than a rough, quiet word, and he wasn't sure if he dreamed… it wouldn't be the first time… 

With whatever force he could muster, Maedhros tried to pull himself back to coherency, to a sharper mind, the reality of the bed under his back and the commotion upstairs. This was real. Had to be. Heart beating faster, Maedhros stirred and tried to push himself up into a sitting position despite his sharply protesting body, immediately overcome by dizziness, and he pressed his eyes shut.

“Fin?”

“Nelyo!” The doorknob was rattling and then there was a dull bang against the door. “Fuck… Are you alright in there?”

Fingon _was_ here. What was he doing, he couldn't possibly have stormed this house all by himself, he should have - but the police - what was going on?

Yet despite the confusion, Maedhros’ heart was hammering in his chest hard enough to push back even the pain, in hope and fear and everything in between.

“Other room… key on the shelf,” he managed to get out, slowly blinking as the dizziness receded somewhat.

“Okay. Don’t go anywhere!” Despite the muffled sound of his voice, Maedhros could picture the relieved grin on Fingon’s lips, and a soft, choked laugh escaped him that was just as much a sob. Again, the muffled sound of a door, and then a triumphant cry. “Found it!”

Cradling his hand still wrapped in that towel to the center of his chest, Maedhros blinked again and finally managed to get the world into proper focus, his heart stumbling along with the sound of the key turning in the lock and the quieting commotion upstairs.

Right. He should probably warn -

But when he opened his mouth, he was interrupted as the door was smashed open and Fingon burst into the room. He took only a second to orientate himself until his gaze fell on Maedhros’ figure on the bed.

“Nelyo… oh _fuck_ …” 

With a few steps he was next to the bed, reaching out for Maedhros but stopping himself just in time. Grey-blue eyes were widening in shock as Fingon took in Maedhros’ battered shape. “Stars, what have they _done_ to you…”

But Maedhros could not reply to his words, could not even entirely process them. All his mind seemed hooked on was Fingon, seeing his face here in this place that had no connection to it, that shouldn't be - But _oh_.

“Oh,” he said, blinking slowly, and a smile spread on his aching face. “Fin… hey…”

The mattress shifted as Fingon sat down next to him, smiling back at him fondly. 

“Hey, Nelyo.”

Eventually, he reached out for Maedhros again, a gentle touch of fingertips at his temple, on the side of his face that was least bruised.

“It’s _so_ good to see your face,” Fingon muttered. A small sound that might have been either a relieved laugh or a sob escaped his lips. “I have to admit, though - it has seen better days.”

Oh, doubtlessly. Maedhros let out a soft, very similar sound that barely even hurt. Fingon on the other hand…

Maedhros hadn't seen him since that very day they had broken up. There had been that one late night text conversation that had, in the end, amounted to nothing but fresh, melancholy ache. So now his face was as from a dream, certainly fuelled by his less than reliable senses, more beautiful from having been deprived of the sight, the clear grey-blue eyes filled with warmth, the familiar curve of his brows, the dark strands of always meticulously cut hair falling around his face…

“Mhmm… You’re beautiful,” Maedhros heard himself mumbling without actively deciding to do so. He groaned quietly, relief slowly flooding his body with endorphins that even managed to dull the pain a little but also made it harder to stay upright. So he let himself tip forward until his forehead rested against the curve of Fingon’s shoulder, his heart hammering a rabbit-beat in his chest. Familiar arms gently wrapped around him, pulling him close but being careful enough that it did not hurt him. Much.

“I’m here, Nelyo… It’s all right now, it’s over… it’s over now…”

There were some distant noises at the door, someone asking a question that Maedhros did not understand, only the reply that Fingon gave.

“… here. I got him. We need the healers down here, he’s badly hurt…”

“… how bad?”

There was comfort in the hold, the scent enveloping him that seeped deep into Maedhros’ bones and finally unravelled the tension that had been there ever since he had first been dragged here, even in his best moments. He was alright now.

“Well, he’s _conscious_ , if that’s what you mean, Thorondor.”

“… couple minutes… need to secure the building first… when it’s _actually safe_ to come down here.”

“Sure,” Fingon replied a little sheepishly and Maedhros thought that again, he could hear the wry grin in his voice before he felt his attention turning back to him, a gentle hand caressing his hair. 

“You heard that?” Fingon muttered into his ear. “Hold on, tiger. We’re getting you out of here.”

Maedhros hummed quietly, the only reply both mind and body seemed to want to allow him. He'd be… yes.

For the fraction of a moment, Maedhros wanted to ask about Mairon. But then he remembered, just in time, that he'd be gone, and he couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever see him again.

Probably not, if things went according to Mairon's plan.

The thought hurt a little. But if that was what he wanted… if he was safe… that was alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Mae and Fin use cheesy pet names. Everyone around them had to deal with it, and so, unfortunately, do you. ;)


	8. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mairon and Maedhros face the aftermath of the rescue. It goes better for one than for the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This is the moment where we want to advise strongly to reread the tags and make sure you're okay with everything in there.
> 
> To keep the timeline consistent, in our modern universe, we decided to make Celebrimbor (aka Tyelpë) the youngest son of Fëanor. Thus, here he is Maedhros' 16-year old brother instead of his nephew.
> 
> One more note about the multitude of canon names for quite a few of these characters: We kept the Sindarin versions of the names as the ones used in official capacities, whereas the Quenya versions and especially the nicknames are used in private settings for family and friends.

_ Two months earlier _

Fin [23:38] hey. how are you?

Nelyo [0:12] as can be expected I suppose

Fin [0:16] let me know if you want to talk

Nelyo [0:17] talk? about what exactly?

Fin [0:17] anything

Nelyo [0:18] do you  _ want  _ to talk to me?

Fin [0:39] of course I do

Fin [0:42] I won't change my mind about what I said though

Nelyo [0:44] I know you won't

Nelyo [0:47] is this a good idea then?

Fin [0:48] you tell me

Nelyo [0:49] is this you asking me to be the responsible one?

Fin [0:51] look I'm not asking for anything. this was just an offer

Fin [0:55] if you don't want to, just say no

Fin [1:00] I'll understand

Nelyo [1:09] not wanting to is not my problem

Fin [1:12] okay. just so you know the offer stands

Fin [1:18] goodnight

Nelyo [1:22] sleep well

***

Here's what Maedhros could piece together afterwards:

There were other people in the room with them eventually, but he mostly noticed because someone eased him away from Fingon, gave him a quick examination and stirred up the pain of his injuries again. But after a needle found its way into his arm, even that floated away, and the last thing he remembered from his cell was a gentle hand caressing his hair.

When he woke again, it was a day later to the face of his mother.

“Hello my darling,” Nerdanel said to him, her voice warm and steady.

They had waited for him to wake up, the healers told him, because they needed him to be stable and the swelling to recede before doing surgery on his hand. It turned out that it was as bad as it had felt: broken in several places, and they couldn't promise him that it would ever hold the same strength or agility again as it had before. Maedhros tried not to let himself think about that too much, and most of the time, he was given plenty of distraction from it.

While his mother was the calm and comfort of a summer day of his childhood, his father was the storm brewing at its end. “He’s going to pay for this,” was the first thing Maedhros could remember him saying. “There’s no hiding in some hole for him this time, and all the lawyers in the world aren’t going to be enough to keep him from what he’s got coming.”

Nerdanel’s eyes settled on Fëanor and he fell quiet then, but his hand came to Maedhros’ shoulder and settled there for a long, wordless moment.

When Thorondor came by with another officer that very same day to take Maedhros’ statement, he finally heard all about how things had gone down after he had sent that message with his location. Of course he remembered Fingon's unending frustration as a freshly licensed lawyer at the fact that Melkor seemed to have his people  _ everywhere _ , and that even in the police, not everyone could be trusted. So the person he had turned to upon receiving Maedhros’ text was Eönwë, who Fingon knew had in the past - in his own frustration - already put together a unit of officers he trusted implicitly, who had then been deployed to hit hard and fast.

And because Fingon was Fingon, he had decided to show up at the very site where Maedhros had been held. Of course he had been supposed to wait until the building was secured, but he had barely made it until the shooting had stopped before personally starting to search for Maedhros.

“He’s lucky he didn’t get hurt,” Thorondor said in his deep, rough voice, and while Maedhros agreed, he couldn’t help but be selfishly grateful that Fingon had been that first person he got to see anyway.

Káno and Tyelpë were the first of his seven brothers who came to see him - the healers had forbidden all of them coming at once, and Maedhros was still tired enough to be grateful for it. It certainly was no surprise that the most quiet and calm out of them all were allowed in first, their utter relief of seeing him alive if not whole visible in their faces.

“I'm going to quit my job,” Maedhros told them that day, watching their eyes widen in surprise. “Don't tell anyone yet, please. Especially not father.” That was a conversation he didn't look forward to but was determined to have anyway.

“Because of what happened?” Tyelpë wanted to know, and Maedhros gave him a half smile.

“Father’s got a brilliant mind, and I do hope the Silmarils and anything else he might yet create will go on to do great things. But being involved in all this… It's not what makes me happy - or even moderately comfortable. And I suppose now I can claim that it has indeed nearly killed me. Literally,” he added wryly.

None of them said that even while Maedhros wasn't a scientist or engineer, he was the only one out of Fëanor's sons with the disposition to actually lead the company. Káno just gave him a small smile and said, “I'm glad for you.”

Tyelko, Moryo and Curvo were the least subtle about asking him how he had managed to send that message to Fingon in the first place, nearly the moment they entered, and who didn't stop asking when he said that there had been someone who had wanted to help him and had given him his phone. Especially Tyelko was utterly unabashed about his curiosity concerning his helper’s motives.

“Oh for Eru’s sake, give me two days at least where I don’t have to think about that place,” Maedhros sighed wearily, and that was enough to shut them up for now, even though Curvo’s eyes remained on him, slightly narrowed, for a long, lingering moment.

Fingon too, of course, knew that there was more to the story, had to be. But he had let it go so far. He had rarely left his side ever since, more often than not sitting by his bedside when Maedhros woke up in the following days, never failing to get a smile out of him or entertain him with a funny story. He brought him little presents and if Maedhros asked for anything else, he would hurry to get it. Once, Maedhros woke up to find him slumped next to him in his chair, dozing himself. The sight had filled him with peace, a faint ache and a quiet hope.

If he did quit his job, and the biggest reason for their breakup was gone…

_ No, don’t go there. Not yet. _

So he just sighed and kept watching until Fingon stirred back to wakefulness and smiled at him.

“Your partner is a real sweetheart,” one of the healers said to Maedhros, smiling, once Fingon was not there. “I’m rather envious.”

The natural assumption made his heartbeat skip in his chest, and Maedhros could only hum in reply.

Once, after the surgery on his hand, he woke up to quiet but sharp voices arguing on the other side of the room, the first thing he consciously heard his father's words: “…  _ you  _ were the one who ended the relationship. There's no need for your constant presence.”

“Father!”

Maedhros was barely awake but managed to give his voice an appropriate amount of sharpness anyway, glaring at Fëanor who met his gaze unflinchingly. But it was Fingon who spoke next, his voice untroubled and amiable as ever.

“I’ll leave the moment Maitimo wants me to. And not a second earlier.”

Despite the way his heart stumbled in his chest, Maedhros let out a small sigh, and looked from Fingon to Fëanor. “I thank you for your concern, ada, but I'm sure that in this, at least, I'll manage on my own.”

They could all see it, yet the one who finally asked Maedhros to his face was Tyelpë, curled up in one of the chairs with his physics homework, looking strangely awkward and comfortable at the same time with his long limbs after his recent growth spurt. (Hopefully the last, Nerdanel had said, he surely was tall enough now.)

“Have you talked yet?”

“Talked?” Maedhros asked, looking up from the newspaper Káno had left for him that was spread out over his lap.

“Yes. You and Fingon.”

Well. The answer to the question was no, and it certainly wasn't because Maedhros hadn't noticed the devotion with which Fingon spent his time here, to the point where he had brought his work with him, silently pouring over documents while Maedhros slept, ate, read, or was seen to by the healers.

It was, in truth, long overdue.

“We will,” Maedhros promised, and Tyelpë gave him a knowing, content smile and went back to his homework. But a while later he spoke up again, his voice quiet.

“The one who gave you his phone. Do you think he’s alright?”

Maedhros let out a deep, slow breath, allowing his gaze to drift out the window to where the afternoon autumn sun peeked out from behind the clouds.

“I hope so. I really do.”

***

Rotten. Something definitely smelled rotten in here, blending with the strong smell of stale tobacco lingering in the air. Somewhere, somebody was yelling in a language Mairon did not understand. He was pushed roughly up several stairs, nearly stumbling while doing so, but the hands that had twisted his arm behind his back held him upright.

“Move your fucking feet, boy.”

Mairon did not answer. He was not sure if he could have, with naked fear nearly choking him, his heart hammering in a frantic beat.

_ Stupid. _ How could he have been  _ so damn stupid. _

Especially since he had thought he had everything figured out. Right after leaving the house, ostensibly to get some ointment for Maedhros’ bruises, he had discarded the SIM card of his phone and then headed for Taur-nu-fuin, one of the shadiest parts of the City of Beleriand. There, he had checked into a cheap hostel under a fake name, paying with the stack of cash he had taken with him before leaving, planning to lay low for the next few days. On the evening news, he had seen that Maedhros had been successfully rescued and was currently treated in a private clinic in Doriath. Several of Melkor’s thugs had been arrested in what the city officials and the police termed the most efficient coup against the mighty crime boss so far.

While Mairon had been relieved, once the adrenaline and the high from the cocaine that he had taken before heading out had worn off, he had started to panic. Melkor would undoubtedly be furious beyond measure. Given his contacts to the police, he would surely find out that Mairon was not among the arrested and would put two and two together quickly. 

To suppress his anxiety and to pass the time, Mairon had drawn another line, and another, and another, burning through his small supply of cocaine within two days. Crashing after each high had been horrible, and every time he had told himself he had to slow down, he had found himself aching for more just a short while later. He had known it was risky, too damn risky to go out and buy more. But then, on the next high, he had convinced himself that it was not that much of a risk. He knew the places, he’d be out and back in before anyone would notice.

Of course Melkor knew the places, too, and he had taken precautions.

He had made it so ridiculously easy for them that he could have slapped himself for his own stupidity. Carelessly and obsessed with thinking about the drug, he had followed the guy into a back alley, where two large thugs of Melkor had simply grabbed him roughly by the arms and pushed him into a nearby car. He had tried to fight them, tried to run, but a punch in the gut that had robbed him of all breath had taught him better. 

He had been such a  _ fucking idiot. _

A door was opened, and there were more people around him, more voices. “Bring him in,” someone said and he was pushed sharply in the back, stumbling forward until the dark hood that had been put over his head in the car was removed and, blinded for a moment, he blinked into the cold, bright light of a naked lightbulb.

Gothmog was there - he was the first Mairon recognized, leaning against a wall, his massive arms crossed over his chest. Another guy he had actually never seen before. And there was Melkor, standing tall in the middle of what turned out to be a shabby living room, a cold, murderous storm in his eyes.

Yet he didn’t say anything right away, just took Mairon in for a long moment.

“Look what the cat dragged in. The one that got away,” he finally said, unmoving and with frost licking at his voice. “Anything you have to say?”

Mairon swallowed drily. For a moment, he considered outright lying, claiming that his phone had been taken, that he had returned right after the raid on the house and had run away scared. But looking at the expression in the dark eyes… Mairon knew Melkor long enough to know the look. He would believe him nothing.

“ _ You  _ dragged me here,” Mairon thus said as coolly as possible, raising his chin. “It would seem  _ you  _ are the one who has something to say.”

Melkor stared at him for only a brief moment, and then he moved. Casually enough, he crossed the distance between them, grabbed the back of Mairon’s jacket, and dragged him along down a narrow hall only to give him a rough push into one of the rooms.

Mairon stumbled into what seemed to be a small bedroom, but he wasted no time looking at his surroundings. Instead he turned around to glare at Melkor with as much anger as he could muster, despite the big lump of cold fear in his throat and the small voice in the back of his head whispering,  _ You are in so much trouble.  _

He  _ knew _ that Melkor had killed people for less than he had done.

“What was it, hm?” the older man asked him the moment the door had fallen shut behind them. His voice was deceptively stable, the fury boiling underneath growing colder with every word. “Did you feel  _ sorry _ for him? Did you let him manipulate you into  _ wanting to help him _ ?”

“ _ Manipulate _ ?” His voice was trembling, and he did not know whether it was fear or anger. “You smashed Maedhros’ hand to pieces. You nearly beat him to death and I don’t know what  _ else  _ you would have done. Do you really think I wanted to be charged not only for complicity in abduction but in  _ murder _ ? I  _ tried  _ to talk to you, but you didn’t even realize I was  _ fucking standing there _ , did you?”

“Oh, I heard you.” Melkor's eyes stared at him in unblinking intensity. “I do wonder: Do you think it will have been worth it? After?”

Mairon merely stared at him wordlessly, his heartbeat racing. And for a long moment, Melkor simply waited him out, his eyebrows rising eventually.

“I  _ would _ like to know. His pretty face for yours, hmm?”

The memory of Maedhros’ face, bruised and bloodied, came back uncalled for, and Mairon swallowed hard. Maybe he should have listened to Maedhros, should have gone to the police. It could have hardly worked out worse.

Raising his chin in defiance, Mairon tried to keep his voice as firm as it was possible. “Fuck, do what you think you have to do, then.”

“Oh no, not me.” Melkor's voice sounded too casual for the icy steel underlying the words that, at the same time, held a bit of a mocking note. A hint of something disconcertingly predatory had entered his gaze. “Five of my men are now in prison because of your actions. It only seems fair to give you to the others to determine the nature of their revenge.”

Mairon just stared at him blankly, unable to come up with a response right away. Even if he had, he was not sure he could have uttered it, with cold fear choking his throat. 

It had been early after they had became involved, when one of Melkor’s thugs who had been high as a kite at the time had tried to grope Mairon in some corner. After that incident, Melkor had made it brutally and effectively clear that his young lover was off limits for everyone and that he was not going to tolerate any harassments or even snide remarks towards him. And the men had done as they were told, acting distant but respectful, even though Mairon had always been sure that quite some of them harbored a silent grudge against him. He just had not cared, had done what he pleased and had been content to ignore the guys he disdainfully thought about as being all muscle but no brain most of the time. But of course he knew what they were capable of and that many of them had no moral compass whatsoever. This could get bad. This could get  _ really _ bad. 

“Swallowed your tongue, have you.” He knew that Melkor had seen the fear spike in him, and it caused something to spark in his dark eyes. Melkor took his time taking him in, from head to toe, as though drawing on memories related to him. “But of course, according to how cooperative you show yourself, I might tell them that  _ some _ things are off limits.”

“What…” Mairon had to clear this throat before he could continue speaking. “What is it you want from me?”

Only now, finally, Melkor crossed the distance between them unhurriedly. Instinctively, Marion backed away, but was stopped by the foot end of the bed that he nearly stumbled over. Melkor reached out to cup Mairon’s chin in his hand, tipping his head up to look him straight in the eye.

“You’re good at lying. You’re not going to lie in my face anymore.”

Flinching at the touch, Mairon tried to withdraw his head in a defiant motion, but Melkor’s fingertips dug into his skin, and actually turning his head away turned out to be entirely impossible.

“ _ Tell me _ what you did with the Silmarils files.”

_ “Nothing,”  _ Mairon spat out. “I don’t care about those stupid files and who has them, and I told you, I couldn’t crack them.”

Melkor’s eyes narrowed as he stared down at him, visibly considering whether he should believe him.

“Where’s your laptop?”

“Locked away in the safe in my hostel room.”

“Give me the address and code.”

Mairon hesitated for a split second but then complied. The projects that were important to him were saved in a cloud and of course he also had a copy of the Silmarils files. Not that this was going to be of much use to him.

“Rivil’s Well Hostel in Taur-nu-Fuin, Room 233. The code is 3791.”

“Ah. There’s your instinct for self-preservation after all.” There was a mocking note in Melkor’s tone as much as in the way his thumb brushed roughly along Mairon’s jaw, something coolly derisive in his eyes. “I thought you were smarter than to think the police would pose the greater threat to you.”

Mairon glared at him. “I’m not scared of the cops. But I told you before that I don’t want to be involved in your shit any longer.”

Melkor looked back at him for a long moment before finally releasing Mairon’s chin from his tight grip. “Of course you’re scared of the cops, or you’d have taken the offer Maedhros doubtlessly made you. Isn’t that right?”

Mairon used the opportunity to bring some much needed space between himself and Melkor. “I’m not  _ that  _ stupid, you know. I know you have contacts inside the police and I didn’t fancy the idea of waking up to a bullet in my brain.”

“And a lot of good your supposedly lacking stupidity did you.” There was a penetrating, taxing look in Melkor’s eyes. “Shame. You’ll regret this, Mairon. I warned you that he’s playing you, that you’re letting yourself be fooled. I know you were sulking about being neglected, but I suppose I did underestimate how much of an attention whore you really are.”

“I told you,” Mairon hissed, “he did not  _ play _ me, he did not  _ manipulate _ me.” The flash of hot anger he felt at Melkor's words was much better than the cold, choking fear and he embraced it eagerly. “He didn't have to. You have no one but yourself to blame for what happened.”

He could see the same anger flashing in Melkor's eyes, but his voice was still steadier than Mairon's. “And you were just waiting for a saviour to come along and rescue you with a kind face and some pretty words?”

“ _ Rescue _ ,” Mairon echoed, and he couldn’t help a small laugh that was completely devoid of humour, ignoring the little voice in his head telling him panickedly not to go down that road. Fuck that, he was screwed anyway. “From boredom, perhaps.”

“And that was all it took?” The anger was flashing in Melkor’s eyes, stroked by Mairon's increasingly careless words. “How much did he have to stroke your need for attention to get you to do what he wanted?” And he added, his voice coldly sarcastic, “Was it as easy as pandering to your ego or did he have to fuck you?”

Mairon just stared at him for a moment, hesitating to respond to what he wasn’t sure was supposed to be a provocation or an actual allegation. But apparently, the expression on his face was sufficient for Melkor to draw the correct conclusion.

In a flash, he had crossed the distance between them again, dark fury rising in his face as he grabbed Mairon by the collar and growled, “ _ Tell me _ .”

“Oh, fucking Maedhros wasn’t what you wanted when you asked me to be ‘clever and convincing’, then?” Mairon spat derisively, a surge of cold satisfaction rushing through him at the expression in Melkor’s face. “ _ Too bad. _ You know, I wonder if you’d have been okay with it if it had gotten you the encryption key. Unfortunately, I think I just forgot to ask about that after the first time and  _ somehow _ it didn’t come up aft-”

He barely had the time to see Melkor’s features slip and rage contort his face. And he certainly didn’t have time to finish his last word before being backhanded right across the face. Dizzy enough from the sudden blow, it took only another push for him to stumble, lose his balance and tumble to the floor.

“Don’t you dare try to aggravate me right now.  _ The truth _ .”

Mairon looked up at him, his head pounding from the blow as well as from his own rage. “Oh that did  _ strike  _ a nerve after all? Glad to know; that’s what I’ve been hoping for every fucking time I went to town on his cock in the past two weeks.” Tilting his head, he gave a derisive laugh completely devoid of humor. “No, wait, but you wanted the  _ truth _ , right? Well, the truth is, Maedhros is just  _ that much better _ in bed than you that I didn’t really think much at all when he fucked me senseless over and over again right under your very nose.”

For maybe the very first time, Mairon was privileged to witnessing Melkor’s expression slipping entirely - though it was, of course, a questionable privilege. Shock was rapidly moulding into black fury, Melkor’s hand shot out, and he pulled Mairon up by painfully gripping his hair.

“You fucking  _ whore _ !” he thundered, throwing Mairon onto the bed by tearing on his hair which drew a sharp gasp of pain from his lips. Hissing furiously, he tried to fight Melkor, push him away with all force he could muster. 

“Leave me alone, you  _ scum _ , I don’t owe you _ shit _ -”

“You owe me  _ everything _ !”

There was a blind, furious struggle between them. Melkor was easily the stronger between them, and all Mairon could do was use his quick reflexes to strike out at him. He managed to get an elbow between the older man’s ribs and, as Melkor reached out to grab his hair again and get a hold on him, managed to turn his head just right so that his teeth dug deeply into his hand.

Melkor cursed viciously, ripped his hand away and used the same one to backhand Mairon again. The blow made stars explode before his eyes, pain pounding harshly in his whole head, and a second blow nearly robbed him of all his senses. Instinctively, he managed to raise his arms to protect his head, trying to get away from Melkor as far as possible. But that opened up the rest of his body, as he realized dazedly when he felt a hand at the front of his jeans, nestling and then ripping the fabric down over his hips.

“No, don’t -” Trying to muster all the energy he had left, Mairon tried to kick at him, scrambling backwards at the same time. “Fuck off, asshole!”

“Shut your fucking mouth!” Melkor shouted back, catching Mairon’s jeans and pulling on them hard enough that Mairon was dragged back towards him about a whole foot before they came off entirely. “Wasn’t this what you wanted? My fucking  _ attention _ ?!”

“Fuck, no!” Mairon hissed, trying to jerk his knee between Melkor’s legs but only hitting his stomach instead. “Leave me  _ alone _ !”

The brief wheezing sound above him could only give him satisfaction - or hope - for the fraction of a second though. The next blows that came were from a closed fist, delivered to his cheek, his jaw, and his abdomen.

“Fucking - little -  _ slut  _ -”

Mairon cringed while the pain exploded in his head and in his stomach and the world momentarily went black before his eyes. Clenching his teeth to fight back a pained whimper, he hoped that he would simply pass out, but unfortunately, the adrenaline in his body wouldn’t let him, kept him aware of the way his weakening attempts of struggling were swatted aside, or the derogatory words thrown his way, or the fabric of his underwear ripping under a violent hand. Thankfully, it also made him feel slightly numb, his mind trying to shut out what was happening to him. There was only one thought lingering in an odd clarity. 

_ Sorry, Mae. I should have listened to you. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On a happier note: This is the low point. Promise it'll get better from here.


	9. Picking up the Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maedhros and Fingon have an important talk and Maedhros gets a mysterious message.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we promised a chapter in which things would get better and here it is.

“Shit.”

Maedhros cursed quietly under his breath and immediately added, a little louder, “I’m good! Just dropped some stuff.”

With a small sigh, he ran his left hand over his face and bent down to collect the last items left - toothbrush, cup and deodorant - from the floor of the small hospital bathroom. Being unable to use his still immobilized right hand was as annoying as it still frightened him. But as the healers had told him, after the surgery all he could do now was to let it heal, and then begin physical therapy.

“Are you trying to pack your stuff again?” Fingon called back from his hospital room. “I _told_ you, I’ll do it for you!”

“I’m not an invalid, I’m capable of carrying my toothbrush over and dump it in the bag,” Maedhros returned with affectionate exasperation, re-entering the hospital room he had spent the past week in with his previously dropped items in hand or pinned between forearm and body. The room he was finally going to leave today. A look at the clock ticking on the wall told him that Maglor was going to be here in half an hour to pick him up, so still plenty of time to finish packing the few belongings his family had brought him for his time here.

Fingon sighed, picking the items out of his arm without heeding his objection. “ _Maitimo._ If you don’t sit down on the bed and let me pack your things for you, I swear I’ll wrestle you down,” he threatened him playfully. “And let me remind you, I have a very good chance of winning given you’re currently one hand short.”

Maedhros let out a soft huff, regretting the fact that he was unable to properly cross his arms over his chest. “I’ve spent enough time in that bed,” he said and pointedly positioned himself by the wall opposite the bed, leaning against it with his shoulders. Granted, the chance of simply watching Fingon putter around the room was nothing he would disregard lightly.

He wasn’t sure how things would continue once he was out of the hospital. Surely Fingon wouldn’t be around as much in Maglor’s apartment as he was here, and _still_ he hadn’t brought up the question he most needed to ask, simply not knowing where to start.

Fingon had already put his clothes and books into the hospital bag and was now eyeing the sideboard that was full of flower bouquets, balloons and get-well-soon cards. “Hm. Should have remembered to bring an extra bag. Do you want to take all of that home?”

“Yes,” Maedhros said immediately. He would have felt more than ungrateful if he had even considered not appreciating any part of this outpouring of love and good wishes. “Well… maybe not the balloons. But… Fin…” Realizing his fingers had curled into the hem of his sweater in a sudden bout of nerves, he forced them to relax, and to take a steadying breath.

“Hm?” Fingon turned around when he registered the tone in Maedhros’ voice. “What it is?”

There was so much to say. Oh stars, where could he even begin?

Trying to calm his now hammering heart, Maedhros let out a deep breath.

“I've had a lot of time to think down there. What you said in those texts… that you're standing by your word -”

“Okay, let me stop you right there,” Fingon interrupted him right away, running a hand through his hair. “Listen, I’m - fuck, I’m sorry, I guess I should have said this before, it’s not fair that you - but I thought…” He hesitated, took a deep breath and then let himself drop onto Maedhros’ bed with a deep sigh. His voice sounded as nervous as Maedhros was feeling as he held out a hand to him. “Maitimo? Sit with me, please?”

It felt like his heart plummeted right down to his feet, for a blind moment overcome with fear at what Fingon might have to tell him. But the hand held out to him managed to assuage the worst of it, reassuring even in this uncertainty. And so Maedhros reached out in return, utterly unable to do anything else, took Fingon's hand and sat down next to him, barely out of touching distance of their thighs.

Looking up into his eyes again required more courage than it should have, the irrational part of him scared witless of experiencing this loss again. And for those terribly long moments, it ruled over his rational thinking, enough that he couldn't say anything at all. But Fingon just smiled at him, in that sweet, upfront way only Fingon could smile, his thumb running over his hand in a gentle, intimate gesture.

“Nelyo, I… I was a complete idiot, okay?” He sighed deeply, shaking his head vigorously when Maedhros wanted to interrupt him. “No, wait, hear me out. When Melkor abducted you… I thought I would go _mad_ , worrying about you. Whether you were dead or hurt, whether I would ever see you again…” Fingon swallowed hard, apparently still pained by the memory. “And it just killed me to know that the last thing I would have ever said to you was some patronizing offer to talk to you but that I wouldn’t change my mind about us. I’m sorry I ever said that to you.” Sighing, he was obviously searching for words again. “See - it’s not like I have changed my mind about your father, about the company, the stupid Silmarils or anything. But - I don’t know anymore why I _ever_ thought that this was more important than us or that it would be easier for me to be without you altogether than having to deal with this shit. Because it’s not. I miss you, Nelyo, I have missed you every single damn day since I broke up with you and I cannot even describe how happy I am that you’re back and… well, _almost_ in one piece.” He gave him a little wry smile. “There, I‘ve said it. Not exactly like I practiced it in my head but I hope you get the idea.”

Oh, _stars_ , did he get the idea. Something hot and deliriously happy was flushing through him, and a soft, disbelieving laugh left his lips. How often had he imagined what it might be like to hear something like this?

For a few moments all Maedhros felt able to do was to look at Fingon, take in that beloved sight, and finally shake his head with another soft laugh.

“You really stole my thunder there, huh?”

“Stole your -” Fingon blinked, looking surprised. “What do you mean?”

Maedhros smiled wryly, tugging Fingon’s hand over into his lap so he could properly envelop it in his.

“I was going to tell you that I’m quitting my job. You weren’t an idiot, you were _right_.”

He could see a mix of emotions on Fingon’s face. “No, you… _don’t_. I mean, don’t do it because of me. I get that the Silmarils are important to you, and I don’t want you to -”

“No, listen - it’s your turn to listen now,” Maedhros interrupted him gently, drinking his fill of being able to look at Fingon without wondering if it was _too_ long. “I’m not only doing it for you. I still believe in my father’s work, but… doing all this management work for the company didn’t make me happy. Any day of the week. And I know he’s going to be rather disappointed, which I’m not looking forward to. But I need to do this. For my sake.”

“Okay,” Fingon said slowly, his eyes lightning up. “But… maybe take a couple of days to think this through? It’s just - I just don’t want you to feel you have to do this _for me_. I’m here for you, Nelyo, regardless of what you decide.” He hesitated for a short moment, the nervous flicker back in his eyes. “Unless of course you don’t want me to be, which, to be honest, I could absolutely understand.”

“Fin…” Shaking his head just a little, he let his thumbs brush reassuringly over Fingon’s knuckles. “I was never mad at you or blamed you for breaking up with me. You know that, right?”

“I know,” Fingon nodded, his face thoughtful. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just been half a year and… well, I didn’t want to presume nothing has changed for you in that time.”

“Nothing about you did.” It was probably part reassurance, part confession, said quietly and with a small, hopeful smile.

“That’s good to know.” There was an excited twinkle in Fingon’s eyes and he opened his mouth, hesitating just for a short moment before asking, “Does that mean I can kiss you right now?”

Trying to ignore the way his heart tumbled madly in his chest, Maedhros aimed for a very casual gesture and grin. “I mean… if you can ignore the black eye… and the beard…”

“Ignore it, are you kidding me?” Fingon muttered, the corners of his mouth twitching. “You look like some hot, roguish pirate with them.” And before Maedhros could reply, Fingon leaned in and kissed him, gentle and slow, his lips as soft and warm as the afternoon sun falling through the window. And it was the worst sort of clichée, yet what it still felt like above everything else was _home_.

He had dreamed this - more than once. During those first few months after their breakup, it had felt like he woke up more often than not with this kind of yearning in his chest, and while the frequency had faded over that half year, it had not entirely gone away. So for a fleeting moment, the happiness pulsing in his chest had to share the space with a bout of anxiety, the fear that he would wake up now - in his bed at best and down in that cellar at worst. But when he instinctively tried to raise his hand to hold Fingon close to him, the stiffness of the cast it was in reminded him that this _was_ real.

A soft gasp hitched in his chest, bringing their kiss to an end, and Maedhros pressed their foreheads together and then buried his face in the familiar silk of Fingon's hair. Fingon wrapped both his arms around him, one of his hands sliding in his hair, gently tugging.

“Hey, Captain,” he murmured in his ear. “Don’t go all soft on me now.”

“Shut it,” Maedhros murmured back affectionately, throat tightening with being overwhelmed by a surge of emotion. “I spent two weeks wondering if I’d see daylight again. Let me be soft.”

Fingon chuckled quietly next to his ear but he didn’t say anything, just pulled Maedhros closer, one hand still caressing his hair while the other was running affectionately over his back in small circles.

Maedhros wanted to stay there for much longer than he knew he had time for, but either way it was long enough to draw strength and a serene sort of contentedness from their proximity, the gentle touches and the familiar scent of Fingon’s hair. But eventually, and only because he was certain enough that he’d get to do this again soon, he let out a soft sigh and made himself slowly pull away.

“We should finish up here, Káno’s going to walk in any moment.”

“Hmm?” Fingon was looking at him with a content, absent-minded gleam in his eyes and, to Maedhros’ utter delight, seemed to need a moment to grasp the meaning of his words. But then his gaze fell onto his watch. “Damn, you’re right.” 

He still took the time to lean forward and press a short kiss to Maedhros’ lips before he got up from the bed, starting to take cards from the sideboard. “Who in the world sent you all these cards? Are you _sure_ there’s nothing I have to be jealous about?” he joked gently, bringing out a soft laugh from Maedhros.

“I haven’t even read them all yet,” he admitted, letting his gaze trail over the table packed full of well-wishes. “I was planning on going through them all at Káno’s place.”

Considering the reality of his safety still being heavily threatened by any of Melkor’s people who were still out there, there was no way he could go back to his own apartment under the circumstances. His parents had offered that he could stay in his childhood home for a while that had way too many empty bedrooms now that everyone but the twins and Tyelpë had moved out. But there were several reasons why Maedhros had declined and taken up Maglor’s offer to stay with him instead. And while these days, his parents didn’t agree on much anymore, they had accepted his choice, even though Fëanor had insisted on providing him with personal security for whenever he left the apartment. And however much Maedhros dreaded the thought, he knew that it was the prudent thing to do.

“May I have a look?” Fingon asked and as Maedhros nodded, he peeked curiously at one or the other card. “Oh, that one’s from the mayor, have you seen it? And of course there’s the yellow press trying to secure the first interview with you, and _plenty_ of fanmail for darling Russandol… Oh, here someone’s really straightforward and wants to go to dinner with you, I _knew_ I should be jealous -” Fingon stopped himself halfway through the sentence, his tone of voice less cheerful now. “Hm. Given that this mystery person knows your favorite restaurant and did not feel it necessary to _sign_ the card, it might be someone you actually know. Maybe I shouldn’t be reading this.”

Maedhros just had enough time to notice the insecurity creeping into Fingon’s voice and was about to respond before he himself was hit by a thought that let his heart plummet to his stomach. Mouth suddenly dry, he got to his feet and stepped next to Fingon, trying not to let show how his heart was hammering nervously.

“Can I see?” he said quietly, taking the card when Fingon wordlessly passed it to him. It was a simple, unobtrusive card with the drawing of a cute, sad looking red tabby kitten with a bandaged paw on the front.

_Hey Mae,_

_really sorry about what happened to you - seems we both had a rough time lately. I hope you’re feeling better and that you’re out of the hospital as soon as possible. It would be great to see you once you’re out - I think there was an outstanding dinner at that fancy restaurant in Gondolin that you like. I’m free basically any day after 5 pm._

_Get well soon._

For a long moment, Maedhros could only stare at it, his thoughts racing, a horrible, terrible feeling sinking in his gut.

When he had thought about if he’d ever see Mairon again, he had figured that, maybe, after some time had gone by and things had calmed down, if everything went according to Mairon’s plan, the young man might possibly contact him, let him know he was alright. But not this soon, after he had declined his offer - plea almost - to do this together so adamantly.

_… rough time lately… soon as possible…_

His eyes scanned the card two, three times and his jaw clenched with the anxiety of not knowing what was going on.

“Nelyo? Everything all right?” Fingon asked carefully, giving Maedhros a puzzled look that stirred him back to the present of the situation, and the troubles that came with it.

There was a confusing heap of things to consider about this and only one thing that was clear to him: Mairon had to be in real trouble, and he had to meet him at that restaurant as soon as he possibly could. It was already past four now, and he’d never be able to make it today with or without making it utterly obvious and therefore very suspicious that there was something going on that needed to be worried about - and Maedhros couldn’t have that, not yet. He needed to think this through, had to consider the pros and cons of telling anyone what was going on, and what the whole story was behind Mairon helping him be freed - and that he was going to meet him again. Because that this was a trap was probably the first thing that came to anyone’s mind who hadn’t spent those past two weeks in the basement with him.

So Maedhros breathed out and smoothed over his expression, tipping his head to place a gentle kiss to Fingon’s temple as he closed the card.

“Yes. Don’t worry.”

Fingon looked like he wanted to say something but in that moment, a knock sounded on the door and, without waiting for an answer, Maglor came in. “Hey! Sorry, traffic was crazy… Am I interrupting something?” he asked casually, his grey eyes curiously scrutinizing Fingon and Maedhros who were still standing suspiciously close together.

“We were just trying to figure out how to transport all this,” Maedhros deflected any questions that might arise from either of them, gesturing at the laden table. “It certainly doesn’t all go in my bag.”

“All of this…? You haven’t even set foot in my apartment and you already plan to transform it into a botanical garden?” Maglor gave him a playfully aghast look but then shrugged amicably. “Let’s ask the nurses, I’m sure they can spare a bag for your stuff.”

“Would you? Thanks.” Maedhros gave him a grateful smile in return that made it impossible for his brother to say no, and they both knew it. Maglor gave him another half amused, half knowing look and vanished again, but the door remained open and they could hear his retreating steps.

Maedhros looked back at Fingon and reached for his hand with his uninjured left.

“You know you’ve got a standing invitation, right?”

“Makalaurë will be thrilled if right after the botany, you drag me into his apartment straight away,” Fingon grinned, but his eyes were warm and bright and he squeezed his fingers briefly. “Maybe you should’ve worked your way up with a stray dog or something.”

Despite his worries, a soft chortle of a laugh was drawn from Maedhros by the words. “Believe me, he’ll rather have you than a stray dog.” For a moment he just looked back at Fingon with, doubtlessly, that same look of warmth in his eyes, and then quickly tipped his head down to steal another brief, chaste kiss from his lips as the sounds of Maglor’s footsteps in the hall outside signalled his return.

*******

Rain was falling steadily outside and it was quickly getting dark, so that Mairon had to pay close attention to the people who walked by, most of them wearing hats, hoods or umbrellas to protect themselves from the weather. As it was still early, not many were heading for the doors of the restaurant on the other side of the street, so Mairon was sure he would spot Maedhros when he showed up.

If he showed up, that was.

Mairon had seen from the cover of a newspaper that apparently, Maedhros had been released from hospital yesterday, but admittedly, the odds that he would already show up here today were more than slim. He would have needed to see the card, draw the right conclusions, decide he wanted to see him at all, and, maybe the most difficult thing of all, then manage to come here to something that would yell _trap_ for everyone else.

Nevertheless, he had to try. Mostly because he simply had no other idea what to do. At least it was warm in here, and there were mouth-watering scents of coffee and pastries just the way it should be in any halfway decent coffee shop. And this was a rather nice one, situated right in Gondolin’s center, with its large windows conveniently right across the street from Gar Alnion.

Trying not to glance at the time, Mairon kept his eyes firmly on the slightly blurry restaurant entrance on the other side of the street, monitoring the people going in or out, not too hopeful, but desperate enough to be here anyway.

And somehow, for some reason, there he suddenly was. Clad in a dark dress coat and carrying an umbrella that made it hard to see much of his head or the colour of his hair - and yet he recognized that body, his height, his gait. 

Mairon’s heart was hammering hard and fast in his chest when he got up so quickly that he nearly knocked over the chair he had been sitting on, hastening to get out onto the street. Fortunately, Maedhros did not immediately enter the restaurant but stopped in the shelter of the entrance, slowly closing his umbrella and letting his gaze trail over the street. Mairon could see that he spotted him, a slender figure with nothing but a large sweater against the cold weather, the hood drawn deeply into his face. Heading over towards Maedhros, Mairon had to restrain himself from breaking into a run and flinging his arms around him desperately, to instead keep up a casual pretense for everybody who might be looking.

“Hey,” was what he just said softly when he reached him. “Can we go somewhere private?”

For a moment, Maedhros only stared at him. The week that had passed since they had last seen each other was obvious in the bruises on his face that had turned into a greenish yellow, a little nick of previously split skin on his cheek still visibly healing. He had shaved off his beard, barely a shadow remaining now from where it had previously covered his cheeks and jaw. His right hand, peeking out from the sleeve of his coat, was in a cast.

To Mairon it felt like an eternity, but in the end only a couple of painful heartbeats went by before Maedhros blinked, composing himself so that when he spoke, his voice was calm. “I'm going to talk to the head of staff for a moment. You go straight to the restrooms.” And he pushed open the door to the restaurant, silently inviting Mairon to go first.

Mairon just nodded, a little overwhelmed by the odd feeling of relief that washed over him just from seeing Maedhros and hearing his voice. Stepping through the doors, he headed straight but not too hastily in the direction of the restrooms, well aware that he was not dressed well enough for a restaurant of this kind. The sweater he had been wearing for three days now had stains and he did not want to pull down the hood so that as few people as possible would get a look at his face. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw that some of the few early guests were looking at him for a short moment, but fortunately, Maedhros was keeping the waiter occupied so no one bothered to come after him.

When he arrived in the restroom that was completely empty, Mairon caught a short glimpse of his own face in the mirror, frightened and pale, which let the dark bruise on his jawbone stick out even more. Taking a deep breath, he leaned against the cold tiles, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart.

_It’s okay, he’s here, he came, it’ll be alright now…_

He shouldn’t have been this surprised, possibly - he knew the effect Maedhros had on him after all. But this was an entirely new situation. Maedhros would certainly not like what he had to tell him next and they had never met outside of the makeshift basement cell before, the roles of who needed help from whom clearly having shifted in the meantime. 

And still a part of Mairon’s brain was absolutely certain that now that Maedhros was here, everything was going to be alright. Somehow.

Even in his anxious impatience, it didn't feel long before the door opened again and Maedhros stepped inside. In his eyes was a worried look, but his voice was quiet and reassuringly even when he said, “Mairon,” and raised his hand in a non-intrusive, wordless invitation.

“Mae.” Mairon felt choked all of a sudden, taking a step towards him but then hesitating in the motion, feeling oddly insecure about this. “Mae, he _knows_ ,” was the only thing he could get out, and he could watch how something startled and alarmed flashed in those grey eyes.

Maedhros’ lips parted, but then nothing immediately made it out, as though he was unsure where to go first. But what he said eventually, quietly, was, “And we’ll survive that too, alright? Hey…” Carefully, slowly - probably to not spook him - Maedhros came half a step closer as well, searching Mairon’s eyes. “Come here, hm?”

And so he did. Wordlessly, Mairon flung his arms around Maedhros’ waist and pressed his forehead against his shoulder, exhaling softly. A shudder was running through his body and for a moment, he thought that his knees would simply collapse under him. But Maedhros’ arms wrapped around him in turn, enveloping him in a warm embrace that, Mairon was sure, would hold him up no matter what his legs did.

For a long, lingering moment, they stayed like this, the only movement Maedhros’ gentle fingers brushing over the nape of his neck, and Mairon’s tensed up shoulders relaxed just a little at this first comforting touch within a week. Until now, he had not realized how badly he needed it. 

Through all that had happened, he had managed not to cry, telling himself over and over again that he needed to stay focussed if he wanted to get through this. But now, as he realized how completely, utterly exhausted he was, he felt hot tears welling up in his eyes, an uncontrollable, soft sob shaking his body.

_Fuck, Mairon, get your shit together._

He couldn’t help it. He was just so fucking _tired._

Of course Maedhros had heard it, probably had felt it too. His hug tightened just enough to be perceptible, his hand cupping the back of Mairon's head.

“It's alright,” he murmured softly, cradling Mairon against him. “You're not alone, I promise you. It's alright.”

A part of him just wanted to stay like this, to relish the sheer luxury of feeling safe for once. Just that he wasn’t, not yet.

“Fuck… I’m sorry,” Mairon muttered, lifting his head just a little. “We probably shouldn’t stay here for too long, though.”

“No, we won't.” Maedhros loosened his embrace a little, but left it up to Mairon to step out of it whenever he was ready. “Is there anything else I need to know right now?”

“Well… I'm pretty sure he has his men searching for me.” Mairon took a deep breath and then stepped back, rubbing his eyes. “And you might be in danger, too. But… I’m so fucking glad you still came.”

“Of course.” Maedhros’ hand was still resting lightly on his shoulder, thumb rubbing small, soothing circles on the fabric of his sweater. “I told you, you have me in your corner. And I owe you. Listen - I’m staying with my brother right now. Is it okay if I take you there?”

Mairon just shrugged. “Sure. Anywhere is fine.”

He wasn’t blind to the worry in Maedhros’ eyes at his listless acceptance. But the older man didn’t say anything, just nodded and shrugged out of his coat, wordlessly wrapped Mairon up in it and got his phone out to call them a cab.

No more than ten minutes later they both sat in the back of a car, silent because the driver would be able to listen in on anything they said. Maybe they both had grown too paranoid for these things now. Moreover, being in the warm car with Maedhros’ coat huddled around him and only the soft sounds of the car engine in the background, Mairon felt another wave of leaden fatigue wash over him. Letting his head fall against the soft leather headrests, he closed his eyes for what he thought was a second. But the next thing he knew was Maedhros’ hand on his shoulder and him saying quietly, “We're here.”

“Huh,” Mairon said, blinking and shaking his head to chase away the drowsiness. Everything around him felt a little surreal and as he got out of the car, a sudden sense of dizziness overcame him and he had to steady himself on the door for a second. They seemed to be in some kind of residential area, but he couldn’t bring himself to care enough to figure out where in Beleriand they were.

Maedhros’ quiet voice and the light touch on the small of his back led him on, into a house and up a flight of stairs. The apartment they entered was dark at first, the light Maedhros then turned on revealing a place with some industrial but comfortable vibes with a huge, cozy couch, a grand piano in a corner next to a couple of guitars, and an open kitchen with a breakfast bar.

It was there Maedhros steered them first, sitting Mairon down on one of the bar chairs so he could rummage around in the kitchen and talk to him at the same time.

“Can you tell me what happened?” he finally asked calmly, searching Mairon’s eyes while heating up pasta and vegetable leftovers in a pan. Mairon sighed, resting his head in his hands. He certainly wasn’t keen on talking about this, but there were things Maedhros should probably know.

“Well… I left, like I said I would. But I guess I was too careless or didn’t think that he would actually bother to look for me. They found me and dragged me back, I managed to escape and have been hiding on the streets since. Which by the way is fucking uncomfortable in November,” he added with a shaky, weak grin that garnered him a similarly weak, sympathetic smile in return.

Still, the worry in Maedhros’ eyes remained.

“How did he find out?” he wanted to know, momentarily turning his attention to the pan, a concentrated look on his face as he stirred with his left hand. The smells were mouth-watering and Mairon’s stomach commented on that with a low rumble. 

“He made an elaborated guess and the rest he kind of wormed out of me,” he muttered. “More or less. At some point I was so angry that I threw it in his face just to see how he’d react. It was actually satisfying.” Mairon shuddered at the memory of the black fury in Melkor’s eyes. “For a moment, that is.” 

Maedhros looked up at him with clear surprise written in his eyes. “You threw it in his face,” he repeated, but sounding more baffled than disbelieving or angry.

Mairon shrugged. “He thought you played me and that I was too stupid to get it. I didn’t feel like taking that. So I told him I fucked you to get back at him and that he sucked in bed.” He sighed softly. “For what it’s worth, I think he was way more pissed off about me than about you in the end.”

Unsurprisingly, Maedhros looked more troubled than relieved. But he didn't say anything right away, instead scraping the pasta onto two plates. One he slid towards Mairon, the other he left opposite him, grabbed his fork and started poking at it. “It was pretty bad, huh?” he said softly, looking up at Mairon again.

“Mhm,” Mairon muttered and spared himself from further explanation by shovelling a large forkful of pasta into his mouth. The sauce was still hot enough that he immediately burned himself with it, but he hardly noticed, making some excited noises while chewing and swallowing down his bite. “Fuck, this stuff is _amazing_.”

This time, the smile on Maedhros’ face was a little more pronounced. “Good to hear you like it,” he simply said and began eating as well, and since he remained quiet after that and Mairon too preoccupied with his first proper meal in days, they didn't speak again until their plates were empty.

“So how did you get away?” Maedhros wanted to know eventually, stacking their plates but leaving them in the middle of the bar.

Mairon sighed softly, licking the rest of the sauce off his fork and putting it on top. “I… pretended to be unconscious at some point and he just left me in the room.” Sarcastically, he added, “I believe he didn’t think that I’d be able to do anything for the next few hours. The door was locked, but I could climb out of the window to the next balcony and went down the fire exit.” 

What sounded easy when he told it now had it fact been a sheer exercise of willpower and blatant panic. It had taken him almost half an hour until he had managed to get up eventually and find his jeans. When he had climbed out of the window, he had nearly slipped and fallen down four storeys, his arms not being able to support his weight any longer. Yet the fear of what Melkor and his thugs might do to him if he stayed had provided him with the necessary adrenaline to limp away unseen.

Mairon knew that Maedhros was trying to hide the horror from his expression, but while he was moderately successful, he couldn’t entirely ban it from his eyes. Yet, to Mairon’s utter gratitude, he didn’t say anything right away, just took it all in for the moment. When he spoke eventually, it was a simple, “I’m glad you got away. I’m glad you sent me that card.”

“Well, you were right all along,” Mairon muttered. “He _is_ a selfish asshole.” But then he looked up and gave Maedhros the ghost of a mischievous grin. “So you liked my card?”

“You mean if I liked the kitten on the front,” Maedhros returned, and it was obvious to them both that he knew what Mairon was attempting to do, and that he went along with it with a small smile on his face. “Very cute.”

Mairon’s smirk got a little broader. “I saw it and I just had to think of you.”

“It’s a good one, I’ll give you that.” The smile on Maedhros’ face still wasn’t big but it was genuine. He straightened and took up the two plates, left-handedly putting them into the small dishwasher and the pan into the sink.

“What about that hand of yours?” Mairon asked. He’d been so anxious and exhausted so far that he hadn’t even thought to ask about it, but the meal had brought some of his spirits back. “Will you… I mean, will it…?”

For a brief moment, Maedhros glanced down at his hand in the cast, and he gave a small shrug that looked a little too casual. “I don’t know. I’m getting physical therapy once this thing is off and… then we’ll see, I guess.”

“Oh, I bet it’ll be fine. You’re a rich kid and probably have the best healers in the country, after all,” Mairon said encouragingly. _And it would be a shame if not, given what you could do with that hand,_ he added silently in his head but didn’t say out loud. Judging by the look on Maedhros’ face, the state of his hand was probably not a topic he would like to be teased about. And after all he had done for him tonight, Mairon was not going to take that risk.

“So what’s next?” he asked, yawning as Maedhros leaned against the breakfast bar again, studying him.

“A shower and some fresh clothes for you,” he said, and the look on his face grew more serious again. “But after that, _you_ need to tell me. I’ve got… options that I’ll tell you about. If you want me to, that is.”

“Which options?” Mairon asked softly. He had expected something like this to come up sooner or later, but as little as he wanted to think about any possible future, he was aware that he would have to deal with it at some point.

Maedhros leaned towards him a little, propping himself up with his forearms on the bar, now intently looking into his eyes again.

“I know this is scary. It is for me too,” he admitted quietly but freely. “I’m going to do whatever I can to get that bastard behind bars, because I don’t want to spend my life looking over my shoulder, afraid that he and his thugs will be there the second I’m not careful enough.” For a moment, he just looked at Mairon and then added, “Do you know about witness protection programs?”

“Yeah. I mean, no. Well I obviously know they exist, but I wouldn’t know how these things work.”

Maedhros nodded. “They're for someone like you. Someone who, through their testimony, can change a case tremendously, and who might therefore be in danger. The gist is that they get a new life in a different place, a new identity to not be found, and protection against eventualities. First… you need a lawyer. You’re an accomplice witness, and testifying against Melkor can get you off the hook for a lot of things you might have been involved in.”

Mairon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “So that’s what you think I should do.”

There was a pause, and then the sounds of soft steps. When Mairon looked up again, Maedhros was standing next to him, and he raised his hand to the curve of Mairon's neck.

“I want you to be _safe_. More than I want Melkor behind bars. As it happens though, those two things coincide.”

“Mhm,” Mairon hummed softly. His eyes fell shut again and he leaned into the touch of Maedhros’ hand. “Okay.”

Immediately, he felt Maedhros’ thumb brush along the curve of his neck, his tone tentative and hopeful as he asked for confirmation. “Okay?”

“Okay for the witness thing,” Mairon muttered, holding very still and enjoying the gentle touch. “But… I can’t pay for a lawyer. I don’t have a single coin and Melkor took my phone and my laptop.”

The soft laugh he heard from Maedhros was full of relief, and before he knew it, he was being enveloped in another warm hug. “I told you Melkor isn’t the only one with contacts.”

“Mhm. You were clearly right before, so I’ll just go ahead and trust you with all this shit now,” Mairon muttered, pressing himself a little closer against him. “But Mae, I can’t think about this right now. I’m just so fucking tired.”

“We can fix that,” Maedhros promised with a reassuring squeeze, and proceeded to do exactly that. Just as he had said, he gave Mairon a set of fresh clothes and steered him to the shower that, at first, his tired body protested against at the mere thought of getting wet. But it was countered by the powerful need to finally feel clean again, so in the end, Mairon stepped into the shower, used Maedhros’ things and dressed in Maedhros' clothes and, finally, slipped into the makeshift bed on the couch upon Maedhros’ coaxing. Not that it had needed much of that either, the mere thought of clean sheets and a soft bed, however makeshift, to sleep on a heavenly prospect.

“Sleep. We'll talk everything through once you're awake,” Maedhros promised and, once more, carded his gentle fingers through Mairon's hair.

“… yeah, okay…” Mairon murmured, his eyes falling shut almost immediately, though he tried to fight sleep off for a moment longer. “But… Mae?” As Maedhros responded with a low hum, Mairon reached for his hand that was still lingering in his hair. Gently, he entwined their fingers, affectionately running his thumb along the palm before he eventually pressed a kiss to the knuckles.

“Thank you.”

Maedhros didn't say anything in reply, but the gentle squeeze of his hand was acknowledgement enough, and Mairon fell asleep to the sensation of a kiss on his forehead.


	10. To new Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the end, it's time for important revelations and even more important decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that we're experts in legal questions as much as we're experts in hacking. As in, not at all. Please enjoy anyway - and thank you so, so much for the amazing comments we've been getting. You have no idea how much joy they've brought us!

For a while, Maedhros paced in the living room, on sock-clad feet and deep in thought, while Mairon slept on the couch. To have him here, where Melkor couldn't hurt him, was utterly relieving. Especially after the things Mairon had inferred but not said, driven home by the bruises that had appeared while Mairon had undressed for the shower and Maedhros had just caught a glimpse of as he left the room. The thought let fury and bile and an overwhelming sadness rise in his chest, and every time he had to breathe deeply to calm himself down and clear his head.

He needed that, if he was to figure out how exactly to go on.

All the while, his fingers itched for his phone, to call Fingon. But he couldn't, not yet. Only when Mairon was rested and clear-headed and reinstated his willingness to testify. Because if Fingon got involved and Mairon retracted that willingness, it would put Fingon in an impossible position, personally and professionally, and Maedhros would never do that to him.

And once he contacted him, he really would have to put all cards on the table about everything that had been going on between him and Mairon. The thought filled him with an anxious sort of nervousness, so he pushed it away for a while longer.

First, had Maglor to deal with anyway.

When he heard his brother’s key turn in the apartment door, Maedhros left the living room to the small hallway, just in time to see Maglor come through the door.

“Ewww, it’s raining cats and dogs outside - should have taken the train,” his brother complained, pulling off his raincoat and his bike helmet. “Anyway, Tyelpë says hi and that he hopes -” He stopped and raised his eyebrows when Maedhros gestured for him to lower his voice. “What’s wrong?”

Maedhros already knew that Maglor wasn’t going to like this. But he was prepared for that.

“You know how I haven’t told any of you yet about the exact circumstances of that message with the location I sent to Fingon,” he started quietly, leaning against the wall with his shoulder.

Maglor just blinked at him in confusion. “The… what? Oh, yes. What about it?”

He’d had close to an hour to figure out where to start in his explanation, and yet now that he had to give it, Maedhros still wasn’t sure what to say first. He sighed.

“I need you to trust me right now. The one who gave me that phone… He’s twenty, Melkor’s ex-lover, now on the run, and sleeping on the couch.”

He saw Maglor’s mouth moving, understandably having trouble processing the information. “He’s… what? Melkor’s… no, wait:  _ How?! _ I mean… _ what the fuck, Nelyo? _ ”

Reaching out to grasp Maglor’s arm in an attempt to get him to lower his voice, Maedhros held his gaze firmly, his voice as quiet as before. “I told you - I need you to trust me. Please. I’m going to explain, but trust me that I haven’t lost my senses and know what I’m doing.”

“I trust you, but what you’re saying makes no -” Maglor continued, in a lower voice than before. Then he stopped mid-sentence and shook his head. “I’m gone for three hours and in that time someone turns up here and… oh wait.  _ Wait.” _ His eyes narrowed as he put two and two together. “Tyelpë’s ‘problem with his music assignment’ that turned out to be no actual problem at all… You set him up to this, Nelyo, didn’t you?”

Despite the circumstances, a small, only half apologetic smile flickered over Maedhros’ lips and he gave his brother a one-armed little shrug. “I knew you wouldn’t agree, so I had to present you with accomplished facts. I’m sorry,” he added, more serious now. “I am. But I owe him my life, and he paid dearly for that. How could I turn my back on him now?”

Maglor crossed his arms in front of his chest, not yet looking convinced. “Okay. But how do you know this is no set-up? That there’s no army of Melkor’s thugs storming this apartment any moment? Or that he won't murder us both when we sleep or -”

“Káno,” Maedhros interrupted him mildly, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. “ _ Trust me. _ I wouldn’t have brought him here if I wasn’t absolutely certain. Just… come in with me, and I’ll tell you everything. Alright?”

“Oh well,” Maglor sighed, taking off his boots. “For the record, father would kill both of us if he knew what you were doing and that I let you just run off one day after you’re out of hospital  _ and _ without your bodyguard.”

“Good thing he doesn't know about it then, isn't it,” Maedhros murmured, feeling his shoulders relax in relief. That could have been a lot harder, though Maglor had always been inclined to trust him most and react quite reasonably even in the face of something as incredulous as this.

“How utterly reassuring,” Maglor muttered sarcastically, putting his shoes on the small rack to dry. “And I’ll pull our dear baby brother’s ears next time I see him. Although I should rather pull yours. Damn it, Nelyo, Curvo and Tyelko used that trick all the time to get rid of us. I cannot believe you pulled it on me.” But he didn’t really sound angry and Maedhros just smiled, reminding himself to make sure to thank Tyelpë.

“All right. Melkor’s ex-lover you said. Consider me intrigued,” Maglor added, and Maedhros caught himself clenching his jaw at the mere memory of that man.

He made the conscious effort of relaxing again and gestured for Maglor to follow him, not giving him the time to say anything else. He lead him into the open kitchen where he and Mairon had eaten previously, sat down on one of the bar chairs and waited for his brother to join him.From here, the couch on which Mairon was sleeping deeply was easily visible..

Maglor took a long look at Mairon before he joined him at the counter, rubbing his eyes. “Stars, that poor kid,” he muttered. “He doesn’t look older than the twins.”

“He is, but not by that much,” Maedhros returned quietly, finally averting his gaze from Mairon as well. “From what I know, he had trouble at home, met Melkor before the warrant was out, and was wrapped around his little finger. After Melkor had to go into hiding, he started showing his true face.”

“And you convinced him to eventually turn his back on Melkor?” Maglor asked, scrutinizing Maedhros’ face for an uncomfortable moment.

Maedhros squared his shoulders and looked right back into his brother's eyes.

“He was the one who brought me food - the only one I ever saw down there. We had a lot of time together. But Melkor did more than enough by himself to drive him away.”

“Yeah, I can vividly imagine it.” Maglor gave him a sympathetic smile. “You can’t stop being a big brother for even a second, can you?”

That was… well. Maedhros hadn’t yet had the time to fully work through his own feelings when it came to Mairon, that confusing tangle of protectiveness and sexual attraction he had never experienced like this before. But right now, for a multitude of reasons, his feelings of protectiveness towards Mairon were much, much stronger than anything else.

“I asked him to go to the police,” he said, gaze trailing back to Mairon. “But he was too scared of the people Melkor has in his pocket. So he gave me his phone and tried to run away instead. It didn’t work out well but… at least he’s here now. And he agreed to testify.”

“You’re going to bring Findekáno in?” Maglor asked and sighed in relief when Maedhros nodded. “Okay, that sounds smart after all. Guess there’s still some sense left in you, Nelyo. And he’ll hopefully talk some more into you.” He hesitated for a moment, then added with a warm smile, “It’s good to see him around again.”

The smile he gave Maglor in return was by far the easiest today. “I know,” was the only thing he found he could say, realizing that the feeling slowly settling deep in his chest was the tentative hope that, somehow, everything might yet be alright.

***

Mairon woke up to sun shining into his eyes and the faint smell of coffee and eggs frying on the stove in the kitchen that made his stomach rumble again. With a loud yawn he sat up, rubbed his eyes and looked around. Maedhros was leaning against a kitchen counter with a mug of coffee in his hand, looking over at him, while another man with dark, long hair that was held together in a messy bun was handling a pan on the stove. 

“Morning,” Mairon said with a somewhat sheepish smile. “What time is it?”

“Well, as you’re up now, I’d say it’s breakfast time,” the man at the stove answered, winking at him. “I hope you like eggs. I’m Maglor.”

“Mairon,” he introduced himself. “Thanks for letting me crash on your couch, Maglor.” 

“No problem at all,” Maglor replied good-humoredly, and added with a glance to Maedhros, “Well, except for the fact that I had to share my narrow bed with a damn beanpole who insisted on taking up most of the space. I have no idea how Findekáno did this. Wait - don’t tell me, I just realized I probably don’t want to know.”

“As if I’d tell you,” Maedhros replied with dry amusement, his gaze softening as it fell on Mairon again. “How did you sleep?” he wanted to know, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Like a rock,” Mairon replied and yawned again. He was awake and sharp enough to notice, though, that Maedhros hadn’t flinched when Maglor had mentioned his ex-boyfriend, as he had done every time Mairon had mentioned Fingon two weeks ago. 

“Is there more coffee?” he asked hopefully, getting up from the couch. He still felt a little sore from the bruises, but the shower and a good night's sleep had returned some of his energy. For the first time since he had run away, fighting fear of getting found, hunger, the cold and the cocaine withdrawal, he actually felt almost normal against. Maybe the worst was in fact over.

“Half a can.” Maedhros smiled into his mug while Maglor turned around and got another one from a cupboard overhead. Not a minute later a mug full of the steaming liquid was ready and waiting for him on the bar. The eggs were ready too by then, a scrambled, creamy heap with spring onions sprinkled on top and fried tomatoes and mushrooms on the side, and Maedhros went to get plates and cutlery for all of them, slices of crusty bread and butter as well as a jar of honey completing the mix.

Mairon dug in as hungrily as he had the night before, only that the topics - for now - were much lighter. Mairon had listened to some songs of Maglor’s band Noldolantë a while ago, and soon they were discussing music and the album they were currently producing. He caught a glimpse of surprise on Maedhros’ face when the older man realized that Mairon knew his brother's music in a little more detail than just in passing, but the expression immediately eased into something pleased and calm. It was nice and felt surprisingly normal after the last few weeks, and Mairon nearly forgot there were unpleasant topics still to be discussed.

That was, until Maedhros turned towards him in a lull in the conversation and asked, “Now that you've slept on it… Do you still stand by it? That you'll testify?”

Mairon just looked at him for a long moment. They were back to that one thing that had always been between them since the day they first met. And of course he wasn’t keen on it, neither in getting involved with the police, nor the DA’s office, and he was scared about what would happen next. On the other hand… what were the alternatives? He would not be able to stay here forever, and a life on the street with Melkor and his thugs at his back didn’t exactly sound promising. Same as Maedhros, he was sure he wouldn’t feel safe unless Melkor was behind bars. And there was an angry, wounded part of him that wanted Melkor there as well, wanted him to pay for what he had done to him.

But that was not all of it. More important was that he trusted Maedhros. And so far, rejecting his suggestions had not done him much good. 

“… Nelyo, give him a break,” Maglor was gently scolding Maedhros. “He hasn’t even finished his coffee yet.”

“No, it’s okay,” Mairon said softly, stirring his mug. “I said I’ll do it and I’ll stand by it.” He looked up at Maedhros who gave him a small, encouraging smile. “What do I do next?”

“Next step is the lawyer,” he said. “If it's alright with you, I'm going to ask Fingon to come here, he just got his licence last year. He can explain the specifics and set you up with a good and trustworthy one. Your lawyer will then set up a plea bargain for you that gives you the maximum of protection and impunity in exchange for your testimony. It will then go to the Public Prosecutor's Department, and from there they'll hopefully have enough to finally get their hands on Melkor.”

Mairon raised his eyebrows. “So… Fingon wouldn’t want to do it himself? If he’s a lawyer?” Not that he was overly interested in getting involved with Maedhros’ boyfriend or ex-boyfriend or whatever it was that Fingon was to Maedhros these days, but the comment struck his interest.

“No,” Maedhros shook his hand. “He can't, I think. Being too entangled in a case on a personal level would mean being emotionally compromised, and that would hurt both you and him in the case, if I remember this correctly.”

“Personal, level, eh?” Mairon couldn’t help asking. “Meaning you guys are back together?”

Maglor laughed loudly, stretching his legs. “Congratulations, Mairon. You’ve just asked the grand question everyone in the family has been wondering about for days. And that he hasn’t answered for anyone. Yet,” he added, looking at Maedhros expectantly, a mischievous grin on his lips. “So, big brother: Are you and Findekáno back on cloud nine?”

The look Maedhros turned on his brother was decidedly unimpressed, and he didn't hesitate for a moment to point towards the hall. “Out, Kánafinwë.”

Maglor blinked. “Are you kicking me out of my own damn living room?”

“Yes I am. I'm not giving you that kind of gossip ammunition to spread among the family, which  _ I know you would _ ,” Maedhros preempted the protest Maglor had just opened his mouth for, Maedhros’ hand still pointing towards the hall. “ _ Out _ , Káno.”

“Ugh, Nelyo, you’re the fucking worst,” Maglor complained not very seriously but got off his chair nevertheless. “I took you in two days ago, you have already taken over my entire apartment including my bed, and I just get bullied around by you instead of the privileged gossip information I was hoping for.” Passing by Maedhros’ chair, he smirked and tried to give his older brother a rap on the head, which Maedhros ducked out of the way of and, albeit only barely, avoided. “Fine, I’ll go for a walk and pick up some groceries on the way. We’re out anyway,” Maglor relented, and Maedhros calmly turned back to his coffee. Though there was a subtle upturn to the corners of his mouth.

“Thank you,” he said amiably, and there was an exchange of glances between the two brothers that spoke clearly of their familiarity - something that had always been foreign to Mairon, never having had siblings, but that now struck him nevertheless.

“You’re welcome, you overbearing douche,” Maglor gave back affectionately, and winked at Mairon before he left. Mairon, who had taken a long sip from his coffee mug to hide his broad smirk, made some choking noises as he desperately tried to bite back his laughter and swallow down the hot brew at the same time. 

Maedhros’ gaze settled on him, his eyebrows raising subtly, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“Glad to see this amuses you,” he said dryly, but there was a certain kind of relief in his voice, a pleased look at seeing Mairon's lighthearted reaction.

“I don't even have to comment on it, do I,” Mairon replied with a grin, putting his mug back on the table. And he could not help testing the waters a little, adding, “So… am I privileged to the get the hot Russingon gossip you're so unfairly denying your family?”

Maedhros’ eyes were contemplative as he considered him deeply. Finally, with once more subtly raised eyebrows and the corners of his mouth twitching, he said, “If you don't run off and sell it to the press…”

Mairon clicked his tongue, enjoying himself. “Oh… that’s too bad. Here goes my chance at fame and fortune. If only I could think of another saucy story about you that I could tell them.”

That brought a small grin to Maedhros’ face, despite himself, it seemed. But after a moment, his expression evened out again and he took a breath.

“Well… I think we’ll be good. Once I can properly explain this whole situation with you to him, that is,” Maedhros finally said, and though his voice sounded casual, that wasn’t really how he felt about it, Mairon could tell. He wasn’t even sure how he felt about it himself. Still, he had never thought that what he and Maedhros had would be anything lasting, had he? But to be truthful, he had not thought about it at all until now.

“You’re going to, hm? Tell him everything?” he asked. “What will he think about it?”

“I don’t know,” Maedhros admitted rather freely, still looking at him. “But I can’t start this over without all the cards on the table.” It seemed like there was more he was about to say, but then he hesitated and stayed silent after all.

“Well, maybe you don’t need to throw them all in his face either,” Mairon suggested, but then hesitated, a small, wry grin on his lips. “In any case - I remember you were not fond of me talking about this particular topic anyway. So go ahead, give him a call.” When Maedhros looked at him, he added, “It’s okay. I’ll behave. Or try to.”

This time, the smile on Maedhros’ face was softer, and he shook his head in an affectionate way. Instead of saying anything, he got to his feet and came to Mairon, lightly cupping his face in his left hand to look him straight in the eye.

“I am glad I got to meet you. I don’t know what I’d have done without you down there.”

Mairon quizzically raised his eyebrows. “Don’t get sappy, it doesn’t suit you.”

He didn’t move away, though, but leaned into the touch as he’d always done, enjoying the intimate and so familiar gesture. And Maedhros only gently quirked his lips at him, thumb lightly brushing over his cheekbone.

“As I keep telling people: I think I'm well equipped to decide for myself what suits me.”

“As if I didn’t know,” Mairon muttered, turning his head so he could press a light kiss to Maedhros’ wrist. “So if it  _ suits  _ you to call Fingon now…”

“Then I guess I'll do it,” Maedhros agreed. He looked at Mairon for a moment longer and then leaned closer, pressing a short, light kiss to his forehead before taking his phone out of his pocket. With a soft hum, Mairon reached for the coffee can once more, blinking in the warm sunlight.

It was the  _ reasonable _ thing to do, he told himself. Of course, after all that had happened, there was a part of him that would have liked nothing more than to stay with Maedhros, to revel just a little longer in that tempting subspace where he would not have to make any decisions or be responsible for anything. But in the end, it would suit neither of them, Mairon was sure about that. Moving forward was the hard way, but it was the only way to go.

He was quite convinced he’d miss Maedhros still.

***

“Okay, so let me get this straight,” Fingon said, running his hand over his eyes to make sense of this crazy story. “Melkor set you on getting the decryption for the files out of Maedhros. You didn’t do it, but eventually gave him your phone so he could text me after Melkor smashed Maedhros’ hand. Now he’s after you and you’re willing to testify in exchange for witness protection, is that correct?”

“Correct,” the young man with the bruised jaw in front of him stated, watching him cautiously out of those gorgeous green eyes. 

“All right,” Fingon said, forcing himself to stay in his professional mindset. “This will require a deal with the prosecution, of course, but I cannot imagine that they’ll refuse. Stars, for once we might actually have what it takes to bring Melkor down.”

He could see the grim satisfaction on Maedhros’ face as he nodded, and Fingon could only imagine what this might mean to him - after the Silmarils, the abduction, the two weeks in that cellar, the bruises and shattered hand.

“The sooner he’s behind bars, the better for everyone,” Maedhros said, exchanging a glance with Mairon. Fingon hummed his approval, thoughtfully tapping the table with his fingers, looking from Maedhros to Mairon and back. There was something decidedly missing in the picture here, most of all the uncomfortable realization that Maedhros had apparently not told him everything about his abduction right away. Of course he had tried to protect the young man that had probably saved his life when he had decided to hand him his phone. Yet the way they looked at each other implied way more familiarity than Maedhros’ previous versions of his abduction story had implied. Fingon wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

“Good,” he said and straightened. “Let me make a phone call to my office so they’ll send someone to pick us up. As soon as we can start acting, the better.”

“Pick us - wait,  _ now _ ?” There was an honestly startled expression on Maedhros’ face that merged into something like alarm as he looked at Fingon as if he might tell him, ‘Nah, tomorrow’s fine too.’ 

Fingon just gave him a long look. “Yes, of course  _ now. _ There’s an outstanding warrant for Melkor and Mairon has information that may be critical in catching him. You just said it yourself, the sooner he’s behind bars…” 

Maedhros nodded slowly, but he didn’t look any happier about it. Fingon’s gaze flicked over to Mairon, but the young man’s eyes were trained on Maedhros, something hard to read in them. The voice of nagging suspicion in Fingon’s head became louder.

“Maitimo,” he asked gently, “is there anything  _ else _ I should know?”

There was, it seemed, from the look on Maedhros’ face. There was this mixture of… resignedness and nervousness, and Fingon was pretty sure he only recognized it because he knew him so well.

“Yes,” he said, and exchanged another glance with Mairon.

“Um… I’ll just go get my things and take a quick shower before we leave, if that’s okay,” the young man said in Fingon’ direction who just nodded absent-mindedly. 

“Sure, take your time.”

He waited until Mairon had left the room and he heard the door of the bathroom falling shut, until he raised his gaze back at Maedhros.

“Is it what I think it is?” he asked, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible.

It had been a good shot, Fingon thought, when Maedhros didn't meet his eyes. “Probably not entirely what you think, but… yes,” he said, the fingers of his left hand picking at his cast. “I - It's -” he started twice and then let out a helpless sigh, reaching up to rub his eyes.

Fingon closed his eyes for a moment, a hot surge of anger, of fierce, blatant jealousy that he couldn’t deflect entirely rushing through him. “Stars, Nelyo, how old is that kid? Eighteen?” 

“Twenty.” The answer sounded like it came reflexively. But then Maedhros took a deep breath, straightened where he sat and squared his shoulders. “I'm not going to make excuses for that. And I'd make the same decision again. I know it sounds like a terrible one, but I'm not going to let anyone judge me for what happened in those two weeks. It got me out of there, me and him both, so as far as I'm concerned, it was all worth it.”

“I’m not judging you, I’m -” Fingon stopped himself, briefly closing his eyes again. “Okay, I probably am. This is just - ah, fuck, Nelyo, this is…”  _ This is your own fault, _ a cruel voice in his own head whispered to him.  _ You broke up with him. You have no one but yourself to blame for this.  _

“So… help me understand this,” he continued, forcing himself to stay calm. “Are you saying you slept with him to convince him to get you out of there?” It sounded disbelieving even in his own ears, but it just didn’t sound like something Maedhros would do. Well, the Maedhros he knew at least, whatever that meant. 

But now, at least, he was looking at him again, his clear grey eyes calmer now.

“There were a lot of factors at play,” he said. “He came on to me from the start… I know he was looking for positive attention Melkor wasn't giving him anymore. And to get back at him somehow too. I was in a… not in a good headspace, he was the only thing I could focus on and the only chance I saw of possibly helping myself. But I won't pretend that he wasn't fascinating and alluring and that I didn't want him,” Maedhros added quietly, but still didn't look away from him. “It turned into a… something… a bit of a game at first, and shaped into a dynamic I hadn't at all expected.”

“All right, I don’t need the details,” Fingon said quickly. “Just…” He sighed, trying to sort his thoughts and feelings.  _ He said that nothing had changed about his feelings. _ And the way Maedhros had kissed him back longingly in that hospital room had suggested the same but… that had been  _ before _ that damn green-eyed kid with the pretty face had shown up again. It was not even so much that Maedhros had slept with him, even though the mere thought made Fingon cringe with jealousy, but the fact that he had told him nothing about this… affair of his so far. Of course he wasn’t obliged to do so, but the mere fact that Maedhros had not trusted him with this information until now was surprisingly hurtful. 

So Fingon opened his mouth to ask the one question that was actually important, then stopped, dreading the answer he might get. Yet he had to know, he just had to if he ever hoped to repair their relationship.

“Maitimo… I need you to tell me the truth about this, please," he said softly, not even daring to look at him. “Are you… are you in love with him?”

“No.”

The word came quietly yet without even a heartbeat’s hesitation, and when Fingon’s gaze flickered up, he saw that Maedhros was still looking unwaveringly at him.

“I’m attracted to him. I care for him, intensely. I want him safe and happy, he deserves that. But  _ you _ …” He shook his head lightly, his grey eyes a bright fixing point. “I don’t know how to wake up and not love you.”

The words took such a load off Fingon's mind, a wave of relief and elation washing through him so strongly that Fingon felt almost dizzy. Without thinking, he was on his feet and over at Maedhros’ side to bury both hands in his copper hair and cover his lips with his own in a hungry, passionate kiss.

If Maedhros was surprised at all, it didn’t take him longer than a heartbeat to overcome it. Immediately Fingon felt an arm slinging around his waist, pulling him in even if that meant that Maedhros had to tip back his head even more to return the kiss. It almost felt as if there had never been half a year between this and the last time, the memory clicking right into place as though it had happened yesterday. But still - when their kiss deepened and Maedhros pulled Fingon right into his lap, the elation, the absolute, pure bliss shone brighter than even in his memory. Possessively, Fingon bit into Maedhros’ lower lip, one of his hands falling down to his back, enjoying how he felt the muscles moving beneath his shirt when Maedhros pulled him closer. All his anger, the jealousy, the yearning, the insecurity about whether Maedhros would actually want him back after all that had happened - it all seemed to collapse in this moment, leaving only the overwhelming feeling of certainty of how madly he was still in love with him and how much he wanted him. And he didn’t know what else would have happened, if not for Maglor’s amused voice interrupting them.

“I’d say get a room, you two, but the only remaining room is my bedroom and that’s a definite no.”

They both jerked in surprise, looked first at Maglor who was leaning by the corner to the hall, and then at each other. Maedhros’ eyes were bright and his pupils wide, and there was a soft flush on his high cheekbones that told a story of its own.

And then a laugh came over Maedhros’ lips and a grin spread that lit up his whole face, and Fingon felt some warm feeling of joy spreading inside his chest. Getting off Maedhros’ lap, he pointedly kissed him once more, before turning back and rolling his eyes at Maglor. 

“I almost forgot about that terrible stalker crew of brothers you have, Nelyo.”

“You’re making out in the middle of  _ my _ living room, I wouldn’t call that stalking,” Maglor replied with an unfazed grin. “But yeah, I’ll definitely tell everyone.”

Maedhros, though, only rolled his eyes, still with a grin on his lips. 

“Go ahead then,” he said the same moment Fingon answered, “Fine.”

Their eyes met and they starting laughing in the same moment.

***

From the soaring heights Maedhros came down the moment Mairon reemerged, clad in his own clothes again that Maedhros had washed the evening before and dried overnight.

It was a firm reminder that things were being put in motion right now, and while that was good for many reasons concerning Melkor, he hadn't expected Mairon to leave  _ immediately _ . Yet there he was, and Maedhros felt his mouth drying up. Mairon seemed to be much calmer about this than he felt though, hugging Maglor goodbye.

“Thank you for letting me crash on your couch. And thanks for the breakfast.”

“Oh, sure, you’re welcome.” Maglor said with a warm smile. “Feel free to stop by any time you like.”

“Well, I don’t want to spoil the mood,” Fingon muttered hesitantly, “but that’s not how witness protection programs work, Makalaurë.”

“Right…” Maglor said, and Maedhros could feel his gaze resting on him for a moment. Determinedly, he didn’t look back, his arms crossed over his chest like a protective shield despite the awkwardness of the cast.

How ridiculous it was, that he had advocated this so adamantly to Mairon, yet now the thought was unexpectedly hard. Maybe he had just never thought this through to the very end.

“He’ll be okay, right?”

It was a senseless question, he knew, but somehow he still needed to ask, looking at Fingon as though he could tell him anything he didn’t already know.

“Well… yes. Of course,” Fingon said, visibly uncomfortable. “I mean, of course it will be an adjustment, but…”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Mairon interrupted him quickly. “You said it over and over again, Maedhros - it’s the right thing to do. Did you not?”

He nodded mutely, admonishing himself to pull himself together. If Mairon could be so calm about this, so should he.

“Yes… it is.”

“Alright, then… I think I’m going to go downstairs and wait for the car there,” Fingon say quietly, and Maedhros only nodded, looking at Maglor.

“Um… I’ll come with you. I wanted to fill a washing machine,” Maglor said quickly, grabbing the laundry basket. “See you around, kid.”

They waited until they heard the steps of the two men heading downstairs until Mairon looked back at Maedhros, the hint of a quizzical gleam in his eyes. 

“You’re doing it  _ again _ .”

“Again? What?” In his honest bafflement, Maedhros even forgot about his consternation for a moment, blinking at Mairon who smirked at him.

“Being sappy.”

Maedhros let out a breath that was part huff and part laugh, shook his head and forced himself to unfold his arms from over his chest. “No, I just - I suppose I wasn’t quite ready for this,” he admitted finally, giving Mairon a small smile.

“Come on,” Mairon said gently, walking over towards him and reaching out to put a hand on his arm, a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. “Where’s the Maedhros who was so tough while being abducted and locked away in a basement for two weeks?”

He felt his smile widen a little, and he just looked at Mairon for a long moment.

“You seem pretty calm,” Maedhros finally observed, the relief to see it easily overshadowing his worry.

“I’m not,” Mairon admitted, actually being serious for once. “I’m nervous as fuck, Mae, but still I am much better than I was before you picked me up. I couldn’t have done this without you, you know?”

It wasn’t like he  _ didn’t  _ know. Maybe Mairon would have managed it anyway, one day - but who really knew what could have happened?

So Maedhros just gave him a quiet nod, looking into those gorgeous green eyes that had been the first thing he had truly noticed about him those few weeks ago.

“As I couldn’t have without you. We’re even, as far as I’m concerned.”

“Are you, then,” Mairon said slowly, the tease back in his voice within a second. “Well as far as  _ I  _ am concerned, you still owe me a couple of sexual favors.” He shrugged a little. “Guess I’ll have to let that hottie boyfriend of yours collect them for me. Pity, though.”

Maedhros let out a soft, incredulous laugh, unable to determine entirely if he should feel put out, amused, or simply affectionate. “You little brat,” he couldn’t help grinning, shaking his head and reaching for Mairon. “Come here. One more time.”

Mairon grinned, but this time he did not hesitate but stepped into the offered hug right away, wrapping his arms around Maedhros’ shoulders, pressing his forehead into the curve of his neck.

“Seriously… thank you. For everything,” Maedhros heard him mutter against his fabric of his shirt.

“Thank you too,” he said back quietly, lightly nuzzling against Mairon’s soft strands of hair, his arms wrapped tightly around him. “Be safe, okay? Take care of yourself. And  _ be good _ to yourself.”

Maedhros couldn’t see it, but he could almost hear Mairon rolling his eyes. “ _ Yes _ , sir, of course, sir.” With a soft laugh, he gently added, “Okay, yes, I will.”

Even though Maedhros couldn't suppress a grin of his own, he reached up and tugged on Mairon's earlobe. “You better.” But he quickly turned serious again, his arm around Mairon's shoulders tightening a little. “I'm damn proud of you.”

“Oh, come on, as if I’ve done anything other than give into you bossing me around,” Mairon replied affectionately. 

“You did a  _ hell _ of a lot more than that,” Maedhros returned immediately and drew away to be able to look into Mairon's eyes. But then, a grin broke over his face. “Bossing you around was fun though.”

“I can’t really object, can I?” Mairon said softly, and before Maedhros could respond, he leaned in to press a quick kiss to Maedhros’ lips, nothing more than a short taste of warmth.

“Well, I guess that’s it, then. See you, Mae?”

“Soon, I hope,” Maedhros said, needing barely a heartbeat to recover from the surprise of the touch. There was a painful, worried little twist in his chest, and - stars, he  _ couldn't _ , he couldn't just -

After a moment's hesitation, he turned and went to the side table next to the piano where sheet music and note stacks were always lying around, grabbed a pen and small piece of paper and scribbled his phone number down on it.

“Here,” he said as he passed the piece of paper to Mairon, his voice quiet as though someone else might overhear him. “Just for emergencies, alright?”

Mairon raised his eyebrows in amusement. “I bet that’s so not allowed.” He still took the paper and put it into his pocket. “Guess I shouldn’t tell Fingon about this, hm?”

“No you should not,” Maedhros growled and nudged Mairon towards the door, feeling better now that he had - well, given in to his mother hen urge, as Maglor would now probably say.

“All right, all right,” Mairon laughed, heading towards the stairs but turning around once more to smile at him. “Bye, Mae.”

“Bye, Mairon,” Maedhros said quietly, burying his good hand in the pocket of his jeans and making himself remain exactly where he was. A quick smile, and then Mairon was gone, quite as suddenly as Maedhros had feared it would feel.

He took a deep breath, yet for a long moment, he simply remained standing there. It was hard to believe that they had only met not quite a month ago. During that time, they had both gone through things together no one would quite be able to understand, leaving a feeling of a bond that, Maedhros was sure, would never quite vanish, no matter how long they wouldn't see each other.

Even if they never saw each other again.

_ Be safe _ , he repeated once more in his head, let out a deep breath, and turned away.

As Mairon was already doing, he would now too: look forward, to whatever it was that now lay ahead. There was still that dreaded conversation with his father looming that he needed to have soon, the long physical therapy to see if his hand might ever be what it once had been - but there was also Fingon, who had put all of Maedhros' hopes and dreams back on track.

There was a  _ lot _ to look forward to. And Maedhros did.


	11. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It takes three years, but finally Mairon gets the news he's been waiting for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, folks! We want to say a massive thank you to everyone who's embarked on this journey with us! Thank you for giving this crazy little story a shot, thank you for the kudos and especially the comments - they honestly made us so happy!

The bright sun was reflecting on his notebook screen, yet that was not the reason why he read the headline again, and then again.

**_Crime boss sentenced to life in prison_ **

_Infamous crime boss Melkor Bauglir was sentenced to thirty years in prison on Tuesday morning. After his capture nearly three years ago in the wake of the abduction of Maedhros Fëanorion, the massive scale trial had plenty of evidence and witness statements to consider, but eventually convicting Bauglir as guilty in over sixty charges of murder, robbery, blackmail, abduction and corruption…_

Mairon skimmed the rest of the extensive article briefly, although there was nothing else that was new to him. Shutting his notebook, he blinked into the warm sun, taking a long, deep breath.

With the trial dragging on and on, he hadn’t dared to believe that it might actually be over at some point. But finally, it seemed he was safe, once and for all. 

Around him, campus life of Eregion's most prestigious academy was bustling, the students chatting, sitting on the grass or the large stairs in front of the main building, studying or simply enjoying the sun, having coffee and chatting with their friends. With exams still far enough away, there was a certain easy lightheartedness filling this warm spring day that seemed even brighter and more beautiful to Mairon now.

He checked his phone, still sufficient time left before his seminar started. Hesitating for a second, he typed a short text message.

_Have you seen the news? :-)_

It only took a couple of moment during which he put his notebook back into his bag until his phone buzzed. 

_It does give a certain satisfaction, doesn't it_ , was Maedhros’ answer.

Slowly heading over to the seminar building, Mairon typed his response.

_Congrats on your wedding, btw_

For a moment he considered typing something like ‘super bourgeois’, but decided against it and instead went for:

_You guys look hot in the press pictures :- > _

This time, the answer came immediately.

_Hah, thanks. Fin says hi too_

And then, before Mairon could formulate an answer, an additional message popped up.

_You’re alright? Happy?_

Mairon suppressed a grin. So typical.

_Yes, Daddy, all good_

The reply he received only consisted of one word, yet it was more than enough to bring a smile to his face after all.

_Brat_

Mairon merely replied with a single emoticon - _;-) -_ before he slipped his phone back into his pocket and hurried up the stairs. After scoring highest on the test last year, his professor had asked him whether he could teach the Coding in VALARIN computer science tutorial this semester. As Mairon could use the extra money, he had happily agreed. He wouldn’t have had to worry about being late though - none of the students were sitting in the seminar room yet, probably delaying until the last moment due to the nice weather. So Mairon had sufficient time to connect his notebook to the projector and open the relevant files. 

“Hey… Sorry, is this the VALARIN tutorial?” a voice alerted him to the first student a few moments later, and Mairon looked up towards the door.

A young man stood there, bag slung over his shoulder, with cleanly cut hair in a warm shade of dark brown.

“You're Annatar?”

“Hey… yes, that's right.” Getting used to the new name had taken some time, of course, but now it felt quite natural. “Come in. There should be a couple of seats left somewhere,” he added with a grin and a gesture to the entirely empty seminar room.

The younger man grinned right back at him and stepped closer instead of taking a seat right away.

“Professor Enerdhil recommended your tutorial to me… I'm an engineering student, I hope that's not a problem?”

“If Professor Enerdhil sent you here, I’m sure it’s not,” Mairon said, plugging the HDMI cable in, before looking back at him. “Just -” He stopped in the middle of his sentence, taken aback when he took a closer look at the other student. He was quite handsome, but what caught Mairon’s gaze immediately were his sharp, silver-grey eyes looking back at him with curiosity. 

_Maedhros’ eyes._

Well not exactly, but the similarity was so striking that this couldn’t be a coincidence. 

“I’m sorry... what did you say your name was?” Mairon asked quickly, realizing that he was still staring at the young engineering student who gave him another smile and held out his hand.

“I'm Celebrimbor.”

Mairon couldn’t help but return the smile and take his hand.

“Good to meet you, Celebrimbor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little note to anyone who might be sad the story's over and would want to spend some more time in this universe... So did we. ;) So we've still got two or three little stories as some companions to this main one here that we'll add into a little series. We'd be excited to see you there! :D


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